The Little Rain Witch
by AislingMorgan
Summary: Juvia Lockser, the little rain witch of Inis Stoirm, is a despised and unwanted orphan looking for someplace to belong. Can she find her place in a world that doesn't seem to want anything to do with her? [Potterverse!AU] Rated T largely for swearing, mostly whenever Gajeel's on the page.
1. Chapter 1 - The Little Rain Witch

Author Notes:

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not Fairy Tail. Not the Potterverse. Wish I did. It'd be lovely. But I don't. I am taking a little bit of liberty with some of the characters, but as this is a fan fiction story, that should be kind of a given...

Another disclaimer: I am neither British nor Irish, so expect my word choices to be highly Americanized. Sorry about that. Corrections to stupid nonsense I put in here is welcome. I'll try to fix it.

Feedback's highly welcome. This is really meant to be a writing exercise for me to take a story from creation to completion, so the more feedback the better. The length on this is probably going to be a bit long... sorry. Feedback on where I should maybe break these chapters up is also welcome.

This is Rated T. Largely for swearing, 95% of which will probably come from Gajeel. Some darker subject matter. Nothing much worse than you'd find in Harry Potter books, though. This is a Juvia-centric story, though there is a definite Gruvia bias in the story. It's just not really the focal point of this.

CHAPTER ONE

The Little Rain Witch of Inis Stoirm

Josephine woke to the roar of rain and the wail of a babe flitting in through her open bedroom window, stirring her from her dreamless sleep well before dawn.

The former wasn't too unusual. Though it had been a pleasant and warm spring day hours earlier without a cloud on the horizon to suggest a coming storm, the weather on the little island of Inis Stoirm was always a breath from turning. She had more than once woken to a flooded cell after having been deceived earlier in the day with the promise of a clear night. That this had been one more night she'd been misled would never have elicited a second thought from the woman if rain had been all that had waken her.

The babe, however, was a different matter entirely.

Crying children were as expected as storms at St. Brigid's. After all, the abbey had served as an orphanage and school for abandoned girls for well over a century. She had more than her fair share of restless nights listening to the cries of toddlers and babes, but the youngest currently in their care was well over three years old and the wail that woke her now clearly belonged to an infant. And, more distressing still, the cry was clearly coming from outside, somewhere out in the torrential rain.

Groaning, the abbess of St. Brigid's rose from her bed, feeling every year of her fifty-eight years and another twenty on top of it for good measure. After fetching a pair of slippers that had managed to avoid the ran that flooded her cell through her still open window, she donned her heaviest coat, fetched her temperamental umbrella and stepped out into the silent and chilled halls of the abbey, its other occupants still slumbering in blissful ignorance as they waited for the coming morning. She decided to leave her Sisters to their dreams. Something about the rain and its little banshee told her that an audience would be unwanted. Instead, she headed for the abbey entrance and pushed open the great oaken doors, struggling slightly against the wind that battered the old abbey. Emerging victorious in her battle against the wailing wind, she stepped out into the rain.

No child waited for her outside the abbey's doors, not that she rightly expected to find it there. Children were rarely left at their gates. They were far more likely to brought in from the mainland, left at some more accessible parish door than an isolated abbey on a barely populated isle. This child, however, seemed to have arrived by a far different method. She could hear the child's wail drifting up from some point below the bluff the abbey was situated on, from the small rocky beach nestled between the steep cliff faces all around it.

Frowning, the abbess carefully set down the path that had been carved into the bluffs to reach the little beach, hounded by wind and rain at every step. When she reached the beach, she followed the child's cry to a rocky outcrop where, half-sheltered by the stones that jutted out overhead, Josephine found a basket with the wailing child inside. The moment Josephine lifted the basket from its hiding place, the wailing stopped. The child opened their deep blue eyes, as dark as the sea that swelled around them, and looked up at her. Josephine noticed a moment later that the rain too had gone largely quiet, the downpour reduced to little more than a light patter against her umbrella. Pushing the thought away for the present, she made her way up the bluff as quickly as her age and the damp remains of the downpour would allow.

Once back safely on the bluff and inside the cold stone halls of the abbey, Josephine headed for her study, taking care to make as little sound as possible and praying that the child remained silent as well. After a quick glance about to make sure she wasn't likely to be disturbed by any of the abbey's other occupants, she ducked into the study with the child and bolted the door shut once inside.

Josephine set the basket onto the old, simple desk of the study and then fetched from a wooden box on one of the few shelves in the room, an old wand. With a flick of the wand, the fireplace in the study crackled to life, its warmth quickly driving away the chill of the stone and rain. Returning to the basket, she flicked the wand again and dissipated the water that had settled in the basket.

"Let's see what we have, then," she muttered to herself as she pulled the child from the confines of the basket, the babe fussing a little as she did. The child, despite being left outside in nearly torrential rain for who knew how long, seemed a perfectly healthy four-month-old girl with a head of blue hair. Josephine checked the basket for any other occupants and found within it a single envelope. After taking the item out and placing the child back in the basket, Josephine opened the envelope, finding in it two sheets of papers and a necklace. On the first piece of paper was simply one sentence: Her name is Juvia Lockser. Just that and nothing more. The other sheet was entirely blank. Frowning, she examined both pieces carefully, but all it held was that one single sentence.

"You're Juvia, are you?" She asked the infant, who in true infant-fashion, merely fussed in her basket in response. "Pleasure," the abbess replied.

She turned her focus to the necklace, reaching into the envelope to retrieve it. As soon as her fingers grazed the seashell amulet, she drew her hand back, drawing in a breath with a sharp hiss as her body recoiled from the talisman. After taking a couple of deep breaths, she tried to remember what it was that hit her only a couple seconds previously, but the sensation and whatever had brought it slipped away like fragments of a dream. She tentatively reached for the necklace again, but whatever it had been that had repulsed her before was gone now. It was just a seashell on a chain. She held it in her hand and glanced at the babe. As though the child knew Josephine's focus had shifted back to her, the girl began to wail once more.

The abbess set the necklace onto the desk and took the babe from the basket, the rain outside pelting the old abbey mercilessly. "Come now, Miss Lockser. Hush," she said as she cradled the girl. "You're alright."

The child's whimpers turned softer, but the girl still seemed uneasy in the abbess' arms.

"I know. This is a poor replacement for a mother's embrace, but we must make do with what we're given in this life, little rain child," she told the girl as she rocked her in her arms. She took her wand tapped it lightly on the girl's nose, a butterfly made of blue light emerging on the point. It fluttered its iridescent wings as it perched on the child's nose.

The child didn't smile or laugh, but she did go silent, one little hand reaching for the shining blue illusion.

"Welcome to St. Brigid's, little Miss Lockser. May your future be brighter than the past that brought you here."

Outside, the sky rumbled.

* * *

"I am more than capable of going down to the village and collecting our supper for the day," Josephine chided the fevered Sister Hildegarde as the woman lay on one of the abbey's infirmary cots after Josephine placed a cool rag over the ill woman's forehead.

"But Reverend Mother," the woman protested, "it's a long walk to the village. It's better that I go. I'm not that ill."

"Enough, girl," the abbess snapped, using the tone that her children, no matter how old they became, knew better than to argue with. "You'll only make yourself worse. A little walk will do me no ill. Rest, and I'll return shortly."

Not waiting for any further disagreement, Josephine left the abbey infirmary. She stopped by her chamber long enough to fetch her coat and umbrella, both items constant accessories every since the sea brought the little blue-haired girl to them and she, in turn, brought the rain that never stopped.

As it was, the rain that greeted her once she left the shelter of the abbey was little more than a slight drizzle, which brought the abbess and the island some relief. She turned towards the long winding path that would take her from the abbey to the village far below on the shore, but she hadn't taken more than a few steps down the worn path when a song flitted up from the little beach below.

With a sigh, Josephine peered over the edge of the bluff, able to make out the little blue curls poking out from beneath the small form's wool cap. Wishing she could just Apparate down to the rocky beach but knowing it wouldn't do to be seen by the girl or any of her Sisters doing so, she started the descent down to the rocky beach. The girl was sitting on a large rock just beyond the shoreline, the tide just below her dangling feet, her gaze on the sea that swelled around her as she sang. The pale girl had no umbrella, the rain falling unhindered on her, not that she seemed to notice.

"Miss Lockser," Josephine called out to the girl.

The song stopped as the girl turned her endless blue eyes to the abbess, her expression neutral as it normally was.

"What are you doing here, child?" Josephine asked, extending the umbrella to shelter the girl as the rain began to pick up.

The girl paused at first, chewing on her lip, before answering in a voice so soft Josephine had to lean in to hear it properly. "Juvia was singing with the sea."

"With the sea?"

The girl nodded slowly. "The sea was singing to Juvia, so she sang with it."

Josephine frowned and looked out to the sea, listening for some sound to explain or corroborate the girl's statement, but she heard nothing but the pattering of rain against the waves and the low rumble of thunder overhead, a clear sign the girl was starting to get distressed.

"Well, no harm in singing, but you need to remember your umbrella, my dear. You'll catch a chill," she said. The rumbling overhead ceased, and the rain returned back to its slight drizzle. "If you've had your fill of the sea for now, would you like to go with me into the village? Sister Hildegarde is ill and cannot go to fetch our supper for tonight, so I'm going instead. Do you want to go with me to collect it?"

The girl's face broke into a rare smile as she nodded enthusiastically, the cerulean curls poking out beneath her woolen hat bouncing around her.

"Come on, then," she said, holding out a hand to the girl. The child took it, and Josephine helped her off her rock and back onto the beach. The abbess guided them up the bluff stairs and then down the winding road that meandered through the hills as it wound its way down to the little village just barely visible beyond. The little girl tugged at her hand as she darted from one side of the road to the other, taking in sights she could only glimpse from the confines of the abbey grounds she had never left before.

Josephine gave the child some free reign, letting the girl drag her one way or another so long as they continued forwards. She answered questions when asked - "They dye the sheep's wool to tell who owns which one." - but otherwise said nothing, opting to let the girl absorb the sights on her own. Josephine was no stranger to children and their nature, but she was not the maternal sort. She knew how to take care of her abbey, but the children she left to the care of her Sisters. She just never really understood them and this little rain witch was scarcely more sensible than the girls before her, so she let the girl do as she pleased.

After about an hour, they finally reached the village of Baile Stoirme, the village largely quiet as it started to wake for the day. The child nearly buzzed with excitement as they walked down the main thoroughfare, stopping in front of every shop still open to peer at the wares inside once Josephine had finally relinquished her hand, finding that restraining the girl was now a lost cause. She'd smile up at Josephine every so often as she pointed at some pretty trinket or bauble in the window.

Josephine only frowned, noting how many more of the stores were closed compared to the last time she visited the village.

With a little gasp that drew Josephine's focus away from another boarded shop, the girl stood awestruck in front of the village's bakery, eyes fastened on a tray of fairy cakes in the window, each topped with a little frosted butterfly. The corners of Josephine's mouth twitched into a smile, and she entered the bakery.

The young woman on the other side of the counter smiled at the abbess as she entered. "Good morning, Reverend Mother."

"Good morning, Mrs. McKenna. I don't suppose I can persuade you to part with one of your fairy cakes for one of your little sisters." The abbess gestured to the blue-haired girl as she entered, wide-eye and entranced with the little bakery so warm and full of light.

Mrs. McKenna paled as she looked at the gestured girl. "That's the devil's girl," she gasped, flinching back.

Josephine stared unblinking at the baker, her brief smile settling into a scowl. "Edith Mary Kerry, I know we raised you better than that," she growled, the tone of her voice one that her girls heard rarely but all knew meant the abbess' wrath was not far behind. "You can't possibly believe in such idiotic, cowardly nonsense." The abbess stole a glance at the accused devil's child, but the girl, thankfully, seemed far too interested in looking about the bakery to notice the conversation going on.

Mrs. McKenna flushed, looking every bit the reprimanded Miss Kerry instead of the woman six years married with girls of her own. "Of - of course, Reverend Mother." She fetched the plate of fairy cakes from the window case and carried them over to the little girl in the patched blue coat and shawl.

The girl looked up quizzically at the abbess.

"Go on, dear. Take one," the abbess told her.

Her face lighting up in delight, she plucked the cake with a blue frosted butterfly from the plate. The child looked up at the baker with a shy smile, followed by a quiet, "Thank you."

"Thank you, Edith," the abbess echoed, giving the woman a glare as she did.

Mrs. McKenna meekly nodded and backed away, her eyes fastened on the little girl who had turned her fascinated attention back to the cake in her hands.

Before the girl could notice the fear in the woman's face, Josephine herded the girl outside, holding the umbrella over the child to keep her and her little treasure dry. The girl looked up at the abbess as they stood in front of the bakery. She split the cake in half and held one of the pieces up to the abbess. The old woman smiled at the girl and patted the child's head. "Thank you, dear, but I've no taste for sweets. It's all yours. Eat it quick, now, before it gets wet."

The girl looked back down at her cake and obediently started to eat it, a small smile on her face as Josephine led her further down the street. By the time they reached the fishmonger's shop, the fairy cake had been devoured and the girl, with a smile on her face and her hand clutching the abbess', returned her focus to the shops they passed. Josephine's own smile was long gone, becoming increasingly aware of the villagers that had started to stir outside of their homes staring at them as they passed and aware of the whispers that followed them, echoes of Mrs. McKenna's own fears. This hadn't been a good idea.

With a small sigh of relief, Josephine pushed pen the fishmonger's door, the little bell overhead chiming to alert the owners of their arrival. A woman at the counter looked over at her and smiled. "Good morning, Reverend Mother."

"Good morning, Mrs. Ryan. I'm here for the abbey's order for the day."

"Of course, Reverend Mother," the old woman smiled and ducked behind the counter. She reemerged with a small brown package and handed it to the other woman.

Before the abbess could thank the woman, a voice bellowed from further inside the shop. "Get that thing out of my shop!" it roared.

Josephine turned quickly to see the red-faced Patrick Ryan storming towards them. Behind her, she heard the child whimper. Instinctively, she placed herself between the girl and the man.

"Get that devil spawn out of my shop!"

"She's a child, Mr. Ryan," Josephine said, her voice steady but full of venom.

"It's a demon! Get it out! Better still, drown the bitch as you should have when you found her!"

The rain outside began to pour mercilessly. Lightning split the sky, flash after flash, followed by a steady roll of thunder.

A litany of hexes passed through Josephine's head, but she wouldn't give them voice. She didn't think any of them would help the girl's cause much. "God find it in His hear to forgive you, Mr. Ryan, for the cruelty you show His most vulnerable subjects, but take a step towards the child and I've no doubt He'll forgive me what I'll do to you," she snarled. She felt the girl clutch her coat, felt her tremble behind her.

The man made no further step towards her or the child, but nor did he back down.

Josephine herded the girl out of the shop, out into the deluge outside. "Come now, little one." Back outside, the street seemed full of people staring at them. Even through the pouring rain, she could see them. She could hear their whispers. And judging by how the thunder grew, so too did the girl. She found the child's hand and clutched it tightly in her own as they quickly made their way to the road back to the abbey.

When they were half an hour out of the village, the rain lightened to a steady patter, cold but not quite as heavy. The thunder and lightning had largely disappeared.

Josephine heard the girl sniffle beside her. "I'm sorry, child," she said at length. "Forgive them. They don't understand, and it frightens them. They'll learn. They'll lose their fear in time."

The girl was quiet for a few minutes longer before quietly saying, "Juvia doesn't think she should leave the abbey again."

* * *

"You did pick up a handful this time, didn't you, Josie?" her guest said as she leaned back in the battered and frayed wing chair of the study, a wand idly twirling between the woman's long, thin fingers. Josephine merely rolled her eyes as she handed her guest a glass of whiskey. The other woman took the glass from the abbess, mindlessly swirling the contents while her gaze remained fastened on the rain that gently pattered against the window.

Josephine studied her old friend's expression, trying to glean from it information that the other woman was holding back, but she was impassive as ever. She always played the part of a Ministry official perfectly. Always serious, severe and steady. Every hair on her gracefully graying head neatly arranged in a tight bun. Her clothes, suitably drab and gray, immaculately fitted and pressed, not a wrinkle or tear to be seen. Every part of her in perfect order. It was a far cry from the girl with the toothless smile who used to conjure toads in to the beds of their classmates.

"Can the Ministry really do nothing for her, Mary?" Josephine asked at length, when the silence became unbearable.

"I'm afraid not. We've had some of our best wizards try a multitude of weather charms, and nothing could break through the rain. We've had curse breakers come and try to discern and dispel whatever curse the girl might be under, and all of them agreed that they couldn't detect any. The rain's just a part of her. We've never really seen anything like it. I've heard that the Department of Mysteries has even assigned an Unspeakable to study her."

Josephine frowned. "I've not noticed anyone around."

"You won't, dear. Not if they're doing their job right," she replied with a lopsided grin, a ghost of the toothless girl emerging from decades of Ministry service.

"Well, what about finding her family?"

"No record of any wizarding family named Lockser, and we went back several centuries looking for one. Nor any families with similar, let's say, difficulties," she said, gesturing to the pattering rain against the window. "Orphans are, unfortunately, common at the moment, but the Ministry has been keeping careful track of the children displaced by the latest civil war, and she's not among them. It also seems unlikely that she'd wind up all the way out here if she were a product of it. The Ministry is therefore inclined to believe she's Muggle-born. She would not be the first child to be dropped at your door by parents terrified of their child's peculiarities."

"Such parents don't usually bother to leave their daughters a name," Josephine muttered. Her own certainly hadn't.

"A mother's momentary guilt," the Ministry official offered.

"Perhaps." Josephine sighed as she took a seat at her desk, propping her elbows on the surface, her fingers interlocked and head resting on them. "I want to send her to St. Rowena's."

Mary shook her head. "The Ministry wants her left here, Josie. Here, she's isolated. Monitored. Contained. The storms are easier to explain her as well. It's not the first time the island's seen so many storms. It's not as though the island called Inis Stoirm by accident."

"It's never been anywhere near this severe before, and those earlier bouts weren't caused by a seven-year-old girl, Mary."

"All the same, precedent goes a long way to explain away the unnatural. It keeps the outside world from looking too closely, and with only a single port in or out, we can monitor Muggles leaving and clear their memories of the girl once they're gone. It's harder to contain her at St. Rowena's. Or anywhere, really."

"Mary, I am not qualified to care for this child. I can scarcely manage Muggle children. Isn't there someone who could foster her? A more powerful wizard? What about Professor Makarov?"

"Headmaster Makarov, now," Mary reminded her, "and he just took in Irene Belsarion's girl now that she's dead. Not to mention caring for his grandson with Ivan in Azkaban. He has his hands full."

"What about Headmaster Precht?"

"Darling, he's 120 if he's a day."

"Still, he's powerful, and he must be bored out of his mind in retirement."

"He was. He's returned to teaching at Hogwarts as a Professor," Josephine flinched, a reaction that didn't go unnoticed by her old schoolmate. "I know, dear. Professor Precht and Headmaster Makarov. Pity the new generation. If they make it to adulthood alive, it'll be a miracle. We did ask Precht, but he was unenthusiastic at the prospect, to put it politely. You may substitute whatever words you think he might have used, less politely, and you'll probably be accurate."

"Professor Warrod?"

"Ignoring the fact that he's older than Precht, are you really forgetting sixth year when he lost an entire class of students in the Forbidden Forest for three weeks?"

"The Fullbusters?"

"Mika Fullbuster died in the Battle of Raven's Hollow last year. Silver's hardly in any shape to raise his son, much less someone else's daughter."

"The Heartfilias?"

"Layla nearly lost her life in the same fight and isn't likely to ever rise from her bed again. She's not likely to be of much help." Josephine paused, trying to fetch a name, any name, suitable to protect and raise the little rain witch, but Mary was quick to capitalize on the silence. "Trust me, dear. We've thought this through thoroughly. It's not an ideal situation, but with this latest Zeref not a year gone, there isn't much that can be done. You haven't seen what's happened outside of Inis Stoirm. You've been protected out here. So has she. The wizarding world is in disarray right now. Most of the older houses were caught up in the latest civil war. No one has emerged unscathed. It's not a world that's ready to handle a quite literal force of nature. She's safer where she is. I imagine you've already written to Makarov."

Josephine sighed and nodded. "He'll speak with the school governors and persuade them to offer her a scholarship."

"Good. In four years, she'll get the training that she needs. You just need to keep her safe until then."

"It's not that simple, Mary. She's not happy here." The storm took that moment to illustrate the abbess' point, pounding mercilessly against the window pane while a steady roll of thunder broke out overhead. Both women turned towards the sound.

After a moment, Mary turned back to her friend. "It's not a happy world at present, Josie. Keep her safe. Happy will have to wait." The Ministry official rose from her chair and, after downing the contents in one swig, set the whiskey glass on the desk in front of Josephine. With a casual wave to the abbess, she apparated out, leaving Josephine to a silent room save the crackling fire.

Josephine remained sitting at her desk for several minutes afterwards, listening to the thunder overhead as she pondered what she should do. This wasn't the first witch to arrive at St. Brigid's, but Josephine was always quick to see them removed to St. Rowena's where they could receive proper care without having to worry about Muggles. And none of those girls had even an inkling of the same sort of strength as the little rain witch. She wasn't qualified for this.

Her wallowing in self- doubt was out short when a strong clap of thunder erupted over head, the window rattling of the force of it. Josephine frowned. Leaving the relative quiet of the study for the cold halls of the abbey, she left to find the source of the trouble now. She didn't have to far before she heard a number of voices clashing. With a pulsing headache, Josephine approached the source, finding Sister Adele scolding a couple of the novices.

"Should I ask?" Josephine asked as she reached the group.

Adele merely shook her head.

"Where is she?"

"She ran out," Adele replied simply, glaring at the two novices.

With another sigh, Josephine headed outside, stopping to pick up one of the umbrellas that were now kept by the heavy oaken doors. She didn't bother to look about or call out. She merely headed down the path to the little rocky beach below, spotting the little blue-haired child, sitting on the same rock Josephine had found her on countless times previously. She wasn't singing this time, though. She heard the child sniffling as she approached, the girl's knees pulled up to her chest and face pressed against them. "Come now, child." She set a hand on the girl's shoulder.

The child's endless blue eyes turned up to her.

"Let's get you out of the rain, child." She held a hand out to the girl. The child's small hand wrapped around her own, and she allowed the older woman to help her to the feet. Neither spoke while Josephine led the child back up the bluff and back to the abbey. By the time they entered the abbey, Adele and her charges had already vacated the hall. Rather than taking the child back to the dormitory, as she had done a dozen times before, Josephine led the girl to her study, the girl following mutely behind, her grip tightening around Josephine's hand.

Once inside the room that the little rain witch hadn't been in since the day the sea brought her. Josephine ushered the girl to the fireplace and its softly crackling fire. She set to work unbuttoning the girl's waterlogged and patched woolen coat. Once the garment was removed and laid draped over the back of a nearby chair, Josephine removed the girl's little woolen cap and set it aside as well. She fetched a blanket and draped it around the girl. "Warmer?" she asked.

The girl just nodded.

"Good. Now, then," she started, settling down next to the girl on the rug, "care to tell me what happened?"

The girl shook her head, her eyes focused on the fire in front of her.

"Come, little one," she said, cupping the child's chin to force the girl to look at her, "you need to tell me what is wrong. I cannot help if you do not tell me."

The little blue-haired girl chewed on her bottom lip, looking far older than the seven years she had. "Eithne and Grainne said that you're going to send Juvia away. They said that you'll send Juvia to live alone on Inishdalla so that the rain goes there instead."

"We aren't sending you away, little one. What sin might you have possibly committed to warrant such punishment?"

"The rain -," the girl started.

"There is no sin is rain, my child," Josephine interrupted. "Rain is a blessing. Without it, nothing could grow. There is no reason to curse its presence."

"But it doesn't stop!" Tears welled up in the girl's eyes. Outside, the rain roared.

"It will, little one. You just need patience." In an awkward show of affection, something she rarely showed to any of her daughters, she pulled the child to her chest and stroked the cerulean tresses that cascaded down the child's back like waves upon the beach. The child whimpered in her arms, but the beating of the rain slowed to a gentle patter on the panes. "The sun's there, my child. You just need to learn how to see it, and you will. It'll just take a little more time." Josephine kept the child close to her, stroking the cerulean tresses and humming softly, until the girl's breathing steadied and the storm has grown relatively quiet. She then pulled away from child, setting her back closer to the fire.

"Alright, dear. I need to get back to my work. Do you want to go back to your lessons with Sister Adele?"

The girl quickly shook her head, cerulean tresses scattering about her.

"Would you rather stay here and help me for the day instead?"

A ghost of a smile flitted across the girl's face, and she nodded enthusiastically.

"Very well, then, you can help me some more tonics for the infirmary, but it's a secret recipe. You can't tell anyone. Understand?" she asked the girl, who nodded again, not that the abbess was particularly concerned about it. It was difficult enough to get the child to speak as it was. Josephine unlocked one of the cabinets in the study and retrieved her cauldron, a mortar and pestle and a few amber bottles. She motioned for the girl to take a seat on the chair on the other side of her desk and waited for the child to climb up. She set the mortar and pestle in front of her and added a few snake fangs. "Now then, you grind them up like this."

* * *

They were looking for her again.

Juvia scowled and curled up tighter in the alcove, the book on plants and herbs given to her by the Reverend Mother propped open against her knees, its well-worn cover threatening to come apart on her. She couldn't imagine what they wanted from her now, but she imagined it wasn't going to be good. It never was. No one ever wanted the little rain witch.

"Miss Lockser, where are you?"

Sister Paul. Juvia flinched. Sister Paul didn't appreciate disobedience. The Reverend Mother didn't tolerate physical punishment, but Sister Paul knew plenty of ways to torture the little rain witch without raising a hand to her. Juvia debated whether or not it was worth keeping quiet, but she eventually decided it was better not to be discovered and lose her hiding space.

With a sigh, she tucked her beloved book into the worn crevice behind the alcove's stone urn that sheltered both her and her one possession from disapproving Sisters and jealous girls. Her only treasure safely tucked away, she shimmied out from behind the urn, noting for not the first time that she was rapidly outgrowing her hiding space, slight as she was. Another year and she'd have to find another spot to hide.

But that was a problem for twelve-year-old Juvia. Eleven-year-old Juvia had her own worries, chief among them, Sister Paul.

"Miss Lockser! Now!"

Grimacing, Juvia followed the voice through the halls back its source, to the squat, elderly Sister. "Here, Sister Paul."

The old woman pushed her pince-nez spectacles back up her bulbous nose as she looked down at the blunette, a scowl set on her weathered and pudgy face, a scowl that only deepened when a low rumble of thunder filled the silent pause between them. "The Reverend Mother has sent of you. She's waiting for you in the study."

The girl nodded and quickly ducked past Sister Paul, suppressing a smile as she went. Maybe the Mother Superior was going to have her help make some more tonics for the infirmary. Or work in the garden. Or organize the library. Anything would be preferable to lessons in the afternoon with the other girls.

She kept her pace steady, not wanting to incur the wrath of the Sisters she passed. As it was, the Sisters she passed still glared as she went by and, when they thought she couldn't see, crossed themselves. She always saw. They weren't as subtle as they thought they were. Or maybe they weren't trying to be. It didn't matter. She always saw, and just as she had all the times before, she felt the dull burn of anger deep in her chest. She tried to bury it. Tried to remember that it was just ignorance that made them fear.. Tried to replace the anger with pity, but it was difficult. Too difficult for Juvia and her eleven years.

Instead, she settled for internal seething. Well, she tried to keep it inside, anyways. Overhead, another clap of thunder broke out while the abbey groaned with the weight of her rain.

Once she reached the study, she paused and took a deep steadying breath, trying to still the storm outside, not that it ever listened to her. With a resigned sigh, she quietly knocked.

"Enter," came the Reverend Mother's voice from the other side.

She opened the study door and stepped inside, smiling at the Reverend Mother as she did. The smile quickly faltered when she realized the abbess wasn't alone in the room for once. Sitting in the faded wing chair in the corner sat a tall, thin man dressed in a peculiar robe and hat. He was an odd looking man, not that Juvia had seen many men in her years at the abbey to really be a judge of oddity. His face was angular, all his features sharp and pointed from his nose to his chin, even to his peculiar mustache which curved at his lips in nearly a right angle and ran straight down to his chin. There wasn't a feature on his face that didn't fill Juvia with unease, but most of all, she disliked his eyes, small and dark, focusing intently on her as though he saw straight into her soul and found it wanting. She shrank back against the door.

"Come here, child," said the Reverend Mother. In the time that Juvia had spent examining the odd man in the corner, the abbess left her desk and taken a position beside the stranger. She held her hand out to Juvia, while leaning heavily on her crosier, a constant accessory for the abbess as of late.

Keeping a wary eye on the stranger as he got to his feet, his pointed hat bending as it scraped the low ceiling of the study, she joined the Reverend Mother, trying to keep as close to her and as far from the strange man as she could.

"Miss Lockser, this is Professor Jose Porla." The Reverend Mother motioned to the man. "Professor Jose, this is Juvia Lockser." The man merely nodded while Juvia eeked out a quiet hello. "Miss Lockser, Professor Jose is from a school called Hogwarts. They've offered you a scholarship to attend school there."

"For Juvia?" She regarded the Reverend Mother quizzically.

The woman nodded. "Hogwarts is a special sort of school," she said. "It's where I was trained as a girl. The abbess pulled down a small box from a shelf and pulled from it the piece of gnarled wood that she often used to stir the tonics Juvia helped her make. She took the wand and tapped its point on Juvia's nose. When she drew it back, light sprang forth from the point, forming a bright blue butterfly, shimmering with wings of blue and green as it settled on Juvia's nose.

Juvia's breath hitched in her chest as she reached out to touch the creature. It moved from her nose to her fingers, fluttering its wings, a trail of light following its every movement. The abbess tapped the butterfly again with the instrument and it vanished in a shimmer of light.

"Hogwarts is a place where children learn to control their magic," the abbess explained. "It's a place that can teach you to control the storms."

Juvia's heart leapt into her throat, feeling like she might drown in the sudden rush of hope that threatened to overwhelm her. "Can they - can they really teach Juvia to sop the rain?"

The man scoffed, the first sound he had made since she arrived. "Of course we can. Your storms are, admittedly, impressive, but nothing that hasn't been overcome before. With proper training, we'll be able to focus your talents."

"What do you say, my dear?" asked the Reverend Mother. "Would you like to go?"

Juvia's gaze shifted to the window, to the rain that pattered against the glass, towards the village she couldn't see through the storm. She remembered the villagers. Remembered the whispers. Remembered the Sisters who crossed themselves in fear. "Won't they be afraid of her? Won't they hate her too?"

"Fear and hate are merely by products of ignorance, my dear," said the Reverend Mother. "You'll be with wizards. They'll understand. They won't fear you. They'll help you."

Juvia looked back to the Reverend Mother and the professor and, after a deep breath, nodded.

"Very well," the professor said. "I will spend tonight in town, and we'll leave in the morning."

"Thank you, Professor," the Reverend Mother said. He nodded and then exited the room, leaving the girl and the abbess alone. The woman turned back towards her desk, leaning heavily on her crosier until Juvia moved to her side to give the Reverend Mother something else to support her. "Thank you, my dear," she said as Juvia helped her to her chair. "Are you nervous?"

"Frightened," Juvia admitted after a pause. "She has only ever left the abbey once. What if she leaves the abbey again and finds it the same as before?"

"You will always have sanctuary here, my dear. No matter what occurs, but now it's time for you to set out on your first adventure. Face it bravely, and you'll be rewarded for it," she said, patting the girl's hand. "Now then, child. You must not speak of what we've talked about here with any of the others in the abbey. We'll tell them you're going to a boarding school. Don't speak about magic. They won't understand, and they wouldn't approve."

"Yes, Reverend Mother."

The abbess paused, studying her, and Juvia fidgeted under her gaze. At length, the woman sighed. "Will you fetch that box for me, child?" she said, gesturing to a small box on the shelf. Juvia dutifully pulled it down and set it before her. The Reverend Mother reached in and pulled from it a necklace, a seashell fastened on a silver chain. "I was going to give this to you when you were a bit older. I didn't want you losing this to one of the other girls. I know how they can be." She placed the necklace in Juvia's hands. "This was the only thing of yours that we found with you when you arrived here."

Juvia took the seashell amulet in her hand and turned it around. It looked so ordinary. Like a shell she could find on the beach below the bluff. Still, someone had left it for her. Someone had cared enough to give it to her. Ordinary as it was, she felt a smile tug at her lips. "Thank you."

The Reverend Mother patted her hand once more. "Off you go now. You've packing to do, and a long journey in the morning."

* * *

Before the sun had risen, not that she or the island of Inis Stoirm had seen the sun rise in all the years she'd been there, Juvia stood at the abbey entrance. In one hand, she held her small case containing her few possessions; her few patched and threadbare clothes and the book of plants and herbs that the abbess had gifted her. In her other hand, she gripped the handle of her little pink parasol, one of the donated umbrellas given to the abbey that the other girls had cast of as being tacky and childish decorated with red hearts and white lace trim. Juvia, however, had taken a liking to the parasol. One little outcast finding comfort in another.

Juvia waited impatiently for the strange man from yesterday to arrive, shifting her weight from one foot to the next at different intervals. The abbess waited with her with far more patience, seated quietly on a bench along the wall. The strange man did not make them wait very long, appearing through the gently falling rain and swirling mist like a ghost. A knot formed in Juvia's stomach, both anxious to be going and apprehensive to be going with the peculiar Professor away from the abbey.

He nodded at them as he approached. "Come," he motioned to her.

Before she followed, she turned to the abbess and embraced her. She felt the abbess stiffen a moment, but she soon returned the embrace. The woman patted the girl's head once more.

"There now, girl. You've an adventure waiting for you. Best not keep it waiting."

Juvia nodded and, smiling one last time at the old woman, waved goodbye before following after Professor Jose.

The man said nothing to her as they followed the path that wound its way to the village of Baile Stoirm, something Juvia was relieved about. She didn't like the sound of his voice, like oil on the ears, slimy and slick. His eyes, however, flicked down to her occasionally, and she reflexively clutched her bag closer to her, wanting to shrink away from the man's gaze. Shortly before they reached the village, he paused, Juvia obediently coming to a stop beside him. A thin, long and pointed finger, rather like a spider's leg, reached down and touched the amulet around her neck.

"What is that?" he asked.

The hand that clutched the parasol instinctively rose to shield the amulet from view. "It's Juvia's. It was left with her when she was brought here," she said.

The professor frowned, his eyes on the hand covering the amulet. "How very peculiar." Muttering to himself, he carried on, Juvia falling into step behind him.

The village of Baile Stoirm was quieter than she remembered from the last time she was there. Many of the shops that she had seen before, including the bakery and its window filled with sweets, were dark and boarded up. The streets that had seemed so full of people to star and whisper were now abandoned. Empty. She heard the Sisters whispering about it before, of the families that fled the island, driven way by the rain. Gone. Gone because of her.

As Juvia and Professor Jose passed through the ghostly streets, she wondered whether or not Baile Stoirm would remain that way. Would it recover? Would the families return? Or had she permanently destroyed Inis Stoirm?

Lost in her thoughts, she hardly noticed when they reached the docks where a boat waited for them. The man on deck nodded at Professor Jose as he approached and then smiled at her, reaching out a hand to her to help her board. "Watch your step, love," he said as she made her way up the gang plank.

Once both his passengers were aboard, he moved to the helm and the ship made its way to the open sea. Juvia looked back to Baile Stoirm and the abbey beyond, watched them grow smaller in the distance. The knot in her stomach tightened as the only home she had known, unfeeling and unwelcoming as it had largely been, was lost from sight. Burying the fear, she turned her eyes to the horizon, to the rising sun she couldn't see.


	2. Chapter 2 - The Boy Who Brought the Sky

Author's Note: Going to divide the next chapter up into three parts... Right now, it's pushing 12k words, and that just seems a little long. I think I've got three decent breakpoints, so we'll see how this works. Further note, mind that some of these characters will be a little OOC because situations are different in this world. As an example, Silver's still alive in this story, which is going to have an impact on how Gray gets portrayed. Hopefully I don't make them too OOC, though.

CHAPTER TWO

The Boy Who Brought the Sky

The trip to London was long and terrifying for the blunette girl. While out at sea, Juvia was calm enough. The sea was there to sing to her and keep her steady. However, once they docked at the Port of London, whatever semblance of peace the sea had given her was gone.

She never knew so many people could exist and all in one place. There seemed to be no end of them or the buildings that rose high into the dreary sky, all of them converging down on her. Suffocating her. And the noise. Oh, how she hated the noise. She missed the sea and its gentle song. She even missed the pattering of rain. How did people live with the screams of machinery and quarreling of crowds as they rushed about, all competing to be heard above the others? She found herself unintentionally shrinking against Professor Jose, willing herself to disappear. To somewhere safe. Somewhere quiet. Professor Jose did nothing to console her. He just kept pushing through the crowds, headed for some destination he didn't see fit to share with Juvia. He only paused once they stood in front of a building with a sign that read _The Leaky Cauldron_. He stepped inside, and Juvia quickly followed.

The roar of London disappeared with the closing of the door behind her. The building was still loud, but the sound had an almost musical quality to it, a cacophony of voices and sounds that blended together in a chaotic display. For the first time since she left the abbey, she smiled, hardly even noticing when Professor Jose took her case from her and handed it and her meager set of possessions to the man behind the bar. Her eyes darted about the room, entranced by the glasses that moved on their own and the people that waved wands like the abbess had about, the air above them lit in an array of colors. Every person she passed as she followed Professor Jose through the building seemed to be laughing, swapping stories, playing games. Everyone except a boy sitting alone at one of the tables. The boy, from what she could see, was about her age. He seemed the one quiet and somber patron in the tavern, his head bowed and face obscured by a mess of long black hair. As she passed by his table, he turned slightly, a dark red eye glaring at her. She slowed, staring back.

"Lockser," Professor Jose said, drawing her attention away from the red-eyed boy.

"Yes, Professor. Sorry, Professor," she said, falling back in step with him.

He led her out back behind the pub to a back alley enclosed by a brick wall. He tapped a few of the bricks on the wall, and the others shuffled away, rearranging themselves until they revealed a path to another street.

Juvia's breath caught in her throat as she followed him into the newly exposed street, wide-eyed and entranced. Her eyes darted from the strange little storefronts to the people in odd robes of all different colors. Overwhelmed by all the sights, smells and sounds, she was six years old again, and just as she had all those years ago, she pressed up against one of the storefront windows, dazzled by the objects on the other side that moved and spun unbidden.

"The rain's letting up," she heard a boy behind her say. She immediately tensed, feeling her face flush, too terrified to turn around.

"_Finally._ I thought it was never going to stop," said a girl. "What a dreadfully gloomy day."

Juvia's fists balled up as she felt a flush of anger chase away the fear and embarrassment.

_Finally? Finally?! She had what? A couple of hours of rain to deal with? How terribly unfair for her!_

The sky rumbled.

"Uh oh. Think we spoke too soon, Luce," the boy said.

For the first time, she wanted the rain. She wanted it to drown out the voices. They had magic too, didn't they? Shouldn't they have been different? Shouldn't they have understood? The abbess had asked her to forgive the islanders. They didn't understand. They didn't know. They feared and hated her because of it. But these people were supposed to have understood! They weren't supposed to have been like the villagers! It wasn't fair! Juvia heard the girl behind her yelp. It took a few seconds for Juvia to realize why. The raindrops falling around her steamed. Burned. Boiled.

"Calm yourself, girl," she heard Professor Jose hiss next to her, and a stab of fear gripped her, suddenly terrified that she was ruining her chances. The rain, though still falling, went cold. "Come." Professor Jose grabbed her arm and dragged her down the street. She followed along mutely behind as the rain poured from above.

He led her past a number of stores, past a number of people, past the whispers that she remembered as a child. Why had she left the abbey? It wasn't any better. Just more people to hate her, and no sea to sing her to sleep.

Lost in her regrets, she didn't realize Professor had stopped until she smacked into him. After scowling back at her, he opened the door of the shop they stood in front of and shoved her inside, just in time for her to hear a boy cry out, "Fire in the hole!" She looked up to see something hurtling towards her. She only had time enough to close her eyes and brace for impact, an impact that never arrived.

Cautiously, she opened her eyes to see Professor Jose with his wand outstretched. The missile appeared to be nothing more than a wand itself, now laying quite harmlessly at her feet. Juvia started to reach for it but paused when she heard Professor Jose say, "Leave it." He pushed her forward as she took in the shop she was being herded into.

The first thing she noticed was a man behind the counter. Old and wizened, he had something of a wild look to him that had her reflexively taking a step back, but his eyes didn't seem to reflect any malice. He just seemed curious as he looked down at her.

The other occupant of the store was a boy her own age with a mess of raven hair and midnight blue eyes. Much like the old man, he was regarding her and Professor Jose with curiosity, and while she didn't feel the same uneasiness from him that she had with the old man, her hand still clutched at her amulet for comfort.

The store itself was something of a mess, like one of her storms had swept inside. Boxes were scattered all over the floor, and bits of broken glass littered numerous surfaces, knocked down by some unseen brawl.

"Professor Jose," Ollivander greeted the man behind her curtly.

"Ollivander," came the almost bored response. "I believe Headmaster Makarov already contacted you."

"Indeed." The old man's gaze shifted back to her, and her grip on her necklace tightened as she shrank backwards. "So this is the little storm child. Curious. Very curious. Let's see what we can find, shall we? I still need to find a match for Mister Fullbuster here. Fullbusters always need to be difficult," he muttered as he disappeared down the halls of the store.

"Family motto," the boy said to her with a smirk and she felt her own lips twitch into a nervous smile. "I'm Gray, by the way, of the aforementioned pain-in-the-ass Fullbusters."

"Juvia Lockser," she replied, her voice little more than a whisper.

"Muggle-born, I take it?" he asked. She tilted her head and must have looked puzzled because he soon clarified. "You just look a little out of sorts. I assumed you were Muggle-born and not used to this," he said with a gesture to the wreck of a room.

"Muggle? What's a Muggle?" Juvia asked, glancing back briefly at Professor Jose who had taken to waiting by the door. He merely scowled in response.

"Called it," the boy smirked. "Muggle's a non-magic person. Muggle-born just means you were born to non-magic folk. No wizards in your family?"

"Juvia doesn't know. Juvia's an orphan," she replied, looking down as her hands fisted the fabric of her dark blue coat, suddenly very aware of the discolored patches that dotted her coat and the faded and worn boots threatening to come apart.

The boy winced. "Sorry."

"It's not a matter," she said softly, grateful that he didn't ridicule her for how she spoke as so many had done before. "Juvia imagines she is a... Muggle? Muggle-born. She doesn't think there were many wizards in her area. Is that bad?"

"Of course not," Gray said quickly, though. Juvia thought she heard Professor Jose snort behind her. Gray must have heard it as well, a scowl marring his face as he glanced back in that direction. "One of my friend's mother is Muggle-born and she's one of the strongest witches I've ever met. Absolutely terrifying when she's angry. Which she usually is when I'm around," he said, the smirk returning. "Time to see what else can I break." He jerked his head to where Ollivander re-emerged, two rectangular boxes in his hands.

"Mister Fullbuster." He set one before Gray, and the other he set before her as she cautiously approached the counter. "And Miss Lockser." He removed the lids from both and, taking the wand from the box closest to Juvia, held it out to her. She took it from him gingerly. "Just flick it around."

Biting down on her lip, she flicked her wrist only to have a row of boxes go flying from their shelves, several of them passing dangerously close to the old wandmaker, not that he blinked in response as they whizzed by. Juvia let out a strangled cry as Ollivander plucked the wand from her terrified grasp. "Not that one, apparently," he muttered.

"Juvia is sorry! She-she didn't mean to!" she apologized in a panic. Ollivander didn't seem to notice.

"It's alright," she heard Gray say. "That's almost expected here. If you don't make a mess at Ollivander's, you're not doing something right. Here, watch." He took the wand from the offered box but no sooner had he touched it, the wand shot from his hands, ricocheted off the wall in front of them and impaled itself on the door behind, just a few inches from where Jose rested back against the door. The professor, much like Ollivander, did not move or acknowledge the wand, but he did glare at Gray. "Damn, that's the second one that didn't even let me hold it. I'm starting to think that they don't like me."

Ollivander sighed. "Fullbusters...," he groaned as he disappeared back down his halls of boxes.

"How do you get a wand, then?" she asked quietly.

"Just got to wait for the right one," Gray replied with a shrug.

"What if there is no right one?"

"Never heard of it happening. Don't worry, Ollivander will find you one. He even managed to find my friend Natsu one, and if he's able to find a wand willing to take that ash-for-brains, he'll find one for you no problem. Don't worry if it takes a few tries. I'm on my seventh wand. Dad said he went through thirty."

"Thirty-eight," said Ollivander as he re-emerged from the back rows. "Please don't take that as a challenge."

Gray grinned at her. "Ready to blow something else up?"

The next half hour passed in one spectacular failure after another, each wand brought adding to the destruction of the store, Ollivander accusing Gray of doing it on purpose, Gray accusing Ollivander of setting his wands against him. All the while, Juvia laughed. Laughed. She couldn't remember ever laughing before, not in all her years on Inis Stoirm. She hardly even smiled. But now, it bubbled out of her, joy overflowing until it had to be released.

At length, though, Ollivander managed to find a wand for Gray, the thirteenth presented. Both wandmaker and boy seemed skeptical, regarding the wand with distrust, as though both expected a delayed reaction. When none seemed forthcoming, the old man sighed in relief. "Rowan, 10 and 3/4 inches, dragon heartstring core."

"This is going to explode on me once I leave the store isn't it?" Gray accused.

"I can only hope," came the tired response.

Juvia watched the exchange with a small smile, feeling a pang of disappointment as Gray would soon leave, leaving her with the scowling Professor Jose to search for her match on her own.

"Feel free to go now. Let my shop be Fullbuster-free for another generation," Ollivander snapped.

"You haven't found Juvia's wand yet," Gray protested. "I'm not going until she finds one." Ollivander groaned before returning to his stock.

Juvia flushed and felt her heart swell a little as he spoke. "You don't need to. Juvia's sure you're busy."

"Nah, I'm all set," he waved off her concern. "Left this until last since I figured it'd take all day. Besides, I want to see how many wands you go through," he said with that smirk that made her feel dizzy and warm.

She only smiled softly in response, not able to trust her brain to form a reply that would make any sense.

"Whereabouts in Ireland are you from?" he asked.

"Inis Stoirm. It's an island in County Mayo."

"In the west, yeah?" She nodded. "My mum was from Galway. Ever been?"

She shook her head. "Juvia has never been off of her island before yesterday."

Gray whistled appreciatively. "That's got to be a bit of a shock coming from that to London."

She nodded. "Juvia was raised in an abbey. It was quiet. Lonely. London is so crowded and loud. It's hard to hear or breathe. Juvia feels like she's drowning in it all," she said, bowing her head.

"Well, don't worry. In a few days, we'll be at Hogwarts. Should be able to breathe there," he said, setting a hand on Juvia's shoulder. She felt heat rise to her face again, and she had to fight a little squeal of joy that threatened to burst out.

Fortunately, Ollivander appeared with another sacrifice and three shattered glasses later left again to find another.

"Just six more to catch up with me!"

Juvia groaned. "Juvia doesn't want to catch up. She doesn't think Mister Ollivander's store can handle it. And she doesn't think Professor Jose will be too pleased to spend much longer here," she said, saying the last part in a hushed whisper.

"Been meaning to ask about that," he said in an equally hushed voice, leaning closer to her. "What's a Hogwarts professor doing escorting you around Diagon Alley?"

Juvia frowned. "Juvia does not know. She just assumed that they did that for students who don't have families to go with them."

Gray frowned as well. "Maybe? My older cousin said he's the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and a nasty piece of work."

"The Dark Arts?"

"Bad, dangerous magic. Curses, hexes, that sorta thing."

Juvia felt the knot in her stomach return as she glanced back at Professor Jose, leaning against the door, his eyes closed and expression bored. Her mind flashed back to the boiling rain. Back to the abandoned streets of Inis Stoirm, boarded up and left to rot. Her blood froze within her. Was the professor there to help her? Or was he there to keep others safe from her?"

"Juvia?" Gray's voice stirred her from her thoughts. "You okay? You look like a ghost just spooked you."

She forced a smile. "Juvia is fine. Just her mind wandering." Ollivander returned with another well-timed entrance and another strike-out on the wand. "Five more to go," she smiled at Gray, and he chuckled. "Are you looking forward to Hogwarts?"

"I guess so," he said with a shrug. "Not looking forward to classes, but it'll be good to finally learn how to fly a broom properly."

"Fly?"

"Yeah?"

"Like, in the air?"

Gray smirked. "Yet to see someone fly through water." The smirk vanished as the blood fled Juvia's face. "Oi! It's alright. It's safe, I promise. It's a lot of fun, you'll see. And it's easy. Much easier than finding a wand." He looked relieved as Juvia visibly relaxed. "How about you? What are you looking forward to?"

Juvia bit back the first response that jumped to mind. Instead, she merely said. "Juvia is looking forward to everything about magic. She's never been around it, really. It's all so amazing. Like a fairy tale."

Gray chuckled. "I can see that. I guess I'm too used to it. Been around magic all my life."

"Will most students at Hogwarts be like that?"

"I guess so. I mean, I know a lot of kids that'll be starting with us, and they're all purebloods and half-bloods."

Juvia frowned, nervously toying with the amulet around her neck. "She's going to seem like an idiot."

"You won't," he said quickly. "I promise you, growing up with magic or not won't matter as long as you keep your head. Remember that friend's mother I told you about? She was Head Girl for her year, and she didn't know a thing about magic before she got to Hogwarts."

Juvia nodded, feeling a little relieved but still resolving to do all she could to not look a total fool. She was going to prove she belonged somewhere. "Do all wizards know each other?" she asked after a pause.

"Huh?"

"You said you know a lot of the students starting this year. Does everyone already know each other?" she asked, feeling her obstacles as an outsider starting to grow.

As soon as she asked, though, she wished she hadn't. Gray's face fell, and he shifted awkwardly. "There was a war, years ago," he said finally, his voice quiet. "A lot of us were evacuated to St. Rowena's by our parents. It's an orphanage that they turned into a shelter for all of us displaced kids during the war. When the war ended, we went home to our families. At least those of us with homes to go back to did. Some just stayed at St. Rowena's. But we all kept in touch afterwards."

"Juvia's sorry," she said softly. "She didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

He shrugged and smiled, a forced half-smile that didn't reach his eyes. "It's alright. Back then, I don't think a lot of us really understood what was going on. It was just like we were all sent to an extended summer camp, and a lot of us became friends there, so it wasn't all bad."

Juvia didn't say anything in response.

Ollivander, thankfully, arrived with another wand and was sent back again, all the while muttering about the influence of Fullbusters.

"So, I'm guessing you don't know much about Hogwarts then?" he asked, seeming determined to move on to happier topics. Juvia shook her head. "Well, you'll get to know it soon enough, but the first thing you'll need to know are the Houses. There's four of them. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin." He said the last one with a grimace. "Gryffindor's the best of them. All Fullbusters end up in Gryffindor. Family tradition." He beamed with such pride that Juvia giggled into her hand.

"Like wrecking Mister Ollivander's shop?"

"Of course! With how well you're doing at that, you'll probably end up in Gryffindor too." She grinned back at him, rather liking the thought. "Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff aren't that bad, though. My cousin's in Ravenclaw. He's a pompous ass, but he is clever, like most Ravenclaw. Slytherins are... well, you don't strike me as a Slytherin," he muttered, his expression darkening. "They're evil gits. The lot of them. Never heard of a dark wizard that didn't come from Slytherin."

The boiling rain, the urge to bring down the storm on all of them, flashed back to her, and she shuddered.

Gray frowned. "Are you cold?"

She smiled and shook her head. "Just someone walking on Juvia's grave."

Ollivander arrived a few seconds later, looking thoughtful. He set this latest box onto the counter and removed the lid before extending the wand to the blunette. A shiver ran up her arm as she took the wand, drawing a small gasp from the blunette. She shut her eyes as the feeling spread through her whole body. It was as if she was being submerged, sinking down into the depths, but she didn't feel afraid. It felt like going home.

When she opened her eyes, Ollivander was watching her, still looking thoughtful. She nervously shifted under his gaze until he spoke a moment later. "Elder, 11 inches, phoenix feather core. Interesting. Very interesting. I look forward to seeing what you do, my dear. Now, off with both of you. Mister Fullbuster, may you remain an only child. With any luck, I'll have retired before another Fullbuster comes of age." With a wave of his hand, he focused his attention on setting his shop in order.

She turned to Gray. For a second, she thought she saw a troubled look on his face, but it was replaced with a grin so quickly, she supposed she just imagined it. "Only nine tries! Guess Fullbusters really are exceptional pains-in-the-ass. Congrats!"

"Thank you!" she beamed at him. "And thank you for staying with Juvia," she said, feeling a blush creep back onto her cheeks.

"Wasn't anything. I had fun hanging out with you," he replied. He seemed honest. The heat in her cheeks grew fiercer. No one had ever wanted her company. No one enjoyed her company. Even the Reverend Mother, kind though she had always been to Juvia, always seemed to seek her out as an obligation, not because she actually wanted the little rain witch's company. But Gray had. He had no obligation to stay with her, but he had. He wanted to. For a brief moment, all those wretched years before seemed to melt away, all worth it for that one hour in the wand shop.

Behind her, Professor Jose cleared his throat. She turned to look back at him and found him staring at her with those unblinking dark eyes. She drew back slightly under the weight of his stare. A second later, though, he turned towards the door. "Come now," he said, and Juvia dutifully followed with Gray close behind. He opened the door, and Juvia flinched at the gleaming light that poured in. Raising her hand to shield her eyes, she stepped outside.

The rain.

Juvia's breath died in her throat as she removed her hand from her eyes.

The rain was gone, the gray clouds parting to let patches of the brightest blue she'd ever seen sparkle through.

"The sky..." Her voice sounded foreign even to her. Small and soft and broken.

Gray looked up. "Huh, the rain cleared up while we were in there."

"Juvia's never seen it before."

"Huh?"

"The sky. Juvia's never seen it. She only ever seen the rain."

Gray chuckled beside her after a second's pause. "I knew it rained a lot in Ireland, but I didn't realize it rained that much. It's pretty nice, isn't it?"

Juvia felt a tear slide down her cheek, certain for the first time in her life that it wasn't rain. "It's beautiful."

If he saw her crying, he didn't mention it, and she was grateful for that. She just stayed, staring at the sky. A couple of minutes later, though, they heard a boy calling out from down the street. "Gray!" Juvia looked back at him, and he winced.

"My cousin," he explained. "Been sent to fetch me, I'm guessing. Going to have to go. See you at the train in a few days, Juvia," he said with a wave and a grin.

"Goodbye," she replied with a wave and sheepish smile of her own. She watched him disappear into the crowded streets, the stupid smile on her face never faltering. When she could no longer see him, she turned her attention to Professor Jose who had been oddly quiet since they stepped outside. She had expected him to drag her onward from the first second she paused, but he had his eyes upward to the blue sky that dazzled her.

Seeming to be cognizant of her gaze on him, he looked down at her, his face thoughtful. And then he looked to her wand. "Let me see it," he said, his hand outstretched.

She wanted to say no, to clutch her wand tighter and closer, but he was a Hogwarts professor, and she was worried that they may not take her after all if she were disobedient. So, after a pause, she handed the wand to Professor Jose. A breath later, a shadow fell over her, and her gaze went up to the sky to see the last slivers of blue drowned out by the gray. "No," the word came out in a horrified whisper. "No! No! Give it back!" Her cries turned loud and frantic as she clawed at his robe, trying to grab the wand back from his hand.

Professor Jose didn't seem to notice. Or if he did, he didn't care. His eyes were on the sky again, muttering to himself, but he did lower his hand enough to put the wand within her grasp.

She snatched the wand back and held it close, her eyes immediately back on the sky, but the clouds remained; cold, gray and dark. "No," she wailed. "No, please! Please come back!" The sky would not listen, and fresh tears began to fall as did the rain, heavy and cold.

"Very interesting," she heard Professor Jose say. "Well, onward." He turned and walked away. After one last desperate glance to the sky, seeking out a non-existent sliver of blue, she followed behind, head bowed and heart breaking.


	3. Chapter 3 - The Redfox on the Train

Author note: Meeeh. Not a fan of this chapter. Really think I need to combine it with the next, but this one's well over 5k as it is. Brevity is not my strong suit. Well, anyways, here comes Gajeel and the reason for a T rating on this story. Thanks, Gajeel. Thanks for the reviews so far, guys. :) Really appreciate them.

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CHAPTER THREE

The Redfox on the Train

The remainder of the day was spent in silence. Juvia followed Professor Jose from one store to the next, accumulating a stack of books, clothes and tools for her upcoming term. The supplies, much as was everything she owned, were second-hand. She didn't mind. They were in far better condition than the books or clothes she had been given at the abbey. She might have even been happy with them, but her eyes kept darting up to the sky, wishing desperately for one last glimpse of blue. Each time the dark gray sky greeted her in return, her heart fell a little more, drowning out any joy she might have felt from the day's other activities.

Jose didn't say anything to her while they carried on. He spoke to the shopkeepers, instructing them to bill the school for the supplies taken, but other than that, he spoke not a word. He hardly even looked to her. The only sign that he even acknowledged her presence at all was when Juvia started to struggle carrying the supplies that she had accumulated. He glowered at her and then retrieved his wand from his robes. A second later, the articles had all lifted into the air on their own accord and floated after him. Had she believed him a kinder person, she might have thought the action for her benefit, but she thought it far more likely he was tired of her dragging behind and slowing him down.

Whatever the reason, no longer struggling to balance her books while trying to hold on to her umbrella left her free to look around.

She wished she hadn't.

When she first arrived at Diagon Alley, before they had reached Ollivander's, she felt like she was being watched. Like she could hear the whispers again. Afterwards, though, she was mostly sure it was just in her head. But now...

She heard them. The whispers. She couldn't pick out what they were saying, but she was sure they were real now. She was sure people were staring. Staring at her. With a whimper, she clutched her parasol tight, kept her eyes straight on the ground in front of her and hurried after Professor Jose.

Relief nearly overwhelmed her when they reached the Leaky Cauldron once more. Professor Jose stopped a moment to talk to the barkeep that had he spoken with when they first arrived. The man, in turn, handed over a couple of keys he removed from a set of hooks on the wall behind him. After nodding to the barkeep, Professor Jose headed up a set of creaking stairs to a row of rooms above the pub, the chaos of the pub reduced to a muffled rumble below. He stopped in front of one of the doors and held out a key to her.

"You'll be staying here until the train leaves for Hogwarts," he told her. "You may go upstairs or downstairs as you please, but you will not leave the Leaky Cauldron at any time, is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," she said quietly, taking the offered key.

"I will be in the next room. I will meet you for meals. Otherwise, your time is yours. See that you behave."

Juvia gulped, seeing flashes of Sister Paul in Professor Jose's demeanor, and that did not bode well for her. "Yes, sir." She unlocked the door and hurried inside, closing the door behind her once her books and supplies had followed her safely in.

Her books and packages settled on the floor next to the door while she took stock of the room, of the large bed - several times larger than the cot she slept on in the abbey - of the fireplace already lit, of the little chair and table positioned by the window, a pot of tea and cup already set and waiting for her. A room. Just for her. No other girls to share it with. Just her. For the first time since she lost the sky, she broke into a smile. After drawing the curtains to shut out sight of the rain, she took the first of her books from the pile, curled up in front of the fireplace and set to learning about this new world she had just been cast into.

* * *

The next few days passed quickly and pleasantly enough for Juvia, particularly once she came across an anti-rain charm in one of her books, a talisman called the teru teru bozu. After inquiring downstairs for some scraps of cloth and a sewing kit, both of which the barkeep kindly saw to obtaining for her, she curled up in her room and proceeded to make a set of the little dolls. The dolls never seemed to make a difference in the rain that carried on outside, but they gave her a semblance of hope. If she studied, if she tried harder, she could make the rain stop. She was sure of it. So when one doll finished and the rain continued on, she consulted her textbook, compared her doll with the one on the page and started again.

When her fingers ached from the effort, she switched over to reading her other texts, determined to feel somewhat prepared for the coming school year. When she reached her Potions textbook, she felt the weight on her heart lift ever so slightly. She recognized a number of the early potions in the book, tonics that the abbess had her help make, though the abbess had never told her what some of the ingredients were when she added them to the brew. With the exception of these odd ingredients - what the world was a flobberworm? - most of the early chapters were just review of what she already knew, which like the teru teru bozu, filled the girl with hope that she'd find a place after all.

She saw little of Professor Jose during those days, which she imagined suited him just as well as it suited her. Whenever she descended for meals, he was already seated at a table. He wouldn't even look up from his paper while she sat across from him or when she uttered a good morning or evening to him. Left to her own devices, she took to watching the other patrons of the tavern. Occasionally, she'd catch sight of some table looking over at her, but she was always quick to look away, too worried to examine their expressions for long.

For the most part, though, no one seemed to notice her, letting her examine the other patrons at her leisure. Her interest, however, almost always seemed to fall back onto one lone figure in the corner, the same boy she had seen when she'd first entered the Leaky Cauldron. He appeared to be one of the other extended guests of the tavern. She had seen him in the hall a couple of times, though she hadn't managed the courage to utter so much as a hello. Every night, he'd be at one of the tables tucked away from the larger crowds, picking aimlessly at his food.

At first, she'd just study the boy, the way he kept his focus down on his plate and seemed to try to withdraw from the world around him. It reminded her of meals at the abbey, of the way she used to try to shrink down and make herself as invisible as she could. After a couple of days, though, what drew her attention were the people around the boy. She'd catch sight of a group of people staring at him. She heard them whisper, saw them point and stare at the boy in the corner, their faces a mixture of worry and scorn. Just as she remembered. The whispers. The stares.

_The Sisters crossed themselves in fear._

Her hands balled into fists, and she heard the roar of her blood in her ears. Or was it just the rain that suddenly hammered the old tavern?

Across from her, Professor Jose brought his hand down on the table hard to bring her attention back. When she looked back to him, he was glaring at her over the top of his paper.

Gulping, she dug her nails into the palms of her hands but steadied her breath all the same, returning her focus back to the plate in front of her. When he seemed satisfied that she wasn't going to cause any further disruptions, Professor Jose returned to his paper.

Juvia kept her focus on her plate, but her thoughts kept going back to the boy in the corner. The wizards truly weren't any different, were they? No matter what the abbess had said. They were just like the islanders. Judging. Fearful. Hateful. Excusing herself, not that Professor Jose noticed or cared, she retreated to her room upstairs. Curling back on the bed, she set to work on another teru teru bozu.

* * *

The next day, it was finally time to leave for Hogwarts. Juvia dressed herself in her nicest outfit from St. Brigid's, the dark sapphire dress well faded but still in decent shape. She donned her fur-trimmed shawl and then fastened onto it her latest teru teru bozu doll, both shawl and talisman resting over her amulet. After pulling her on her woolen hat, she packed away the rest of her belongings into a battered, old tin trunk, her own little case far too small to carry with it all the books and supplies she had acquired at Diagon Alley. She proceeded to try to drag the tin trunk out into the hall, only getting as far as the doorway before falling at the feet of the bored looking Professor Jose. He sighed before retrieving his wand from his robe and pointed it at the trunk. The trunk lifted off of the ground and followed Professor Jose as he descended down the stairs, Juvia flattening against the floor as it passed over her. Once it was safely away, she scrambled to her feet and followed after the professor.

A quick lorry ride later, they arrived at King's Cross station, much to Juvia's distress. If she thought London in general was crowded and loud, King's Cross was so much worse. She couldn't move without bumping into or being bumped into someone. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't even hear herself think. After the sixth such collision, Juvia clamped her hands over her ears and shut her eyes, trying to will them all away. Above the station, she heard a loud clap of thunder, calling out for her. The sound was quickly followed by a push from Professor Jose to move onward. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she pushed the trolley forward until they made their way to the platforms 9 and 10. She eyed Professor Jose nervously. He took the lead and led her to a column between the two platforms. Without hesitation, he walked right on through. Taking a deep breath to muster courage, she followed after him.

On the other side, she was greeted by another platform and a bright red train, along with a number of students and families gathered along the platform. She took only a moment to stare at wonder at the steam engine before following after Professor Jose. "Luggage there," he said simply, pointing one of his long, thin fingers at a section on the platform. "I'll leave you here. See to it that you get on the train." With that, he started to stalk off.

"Thank you, Professor Jose," she called out after him as he left.

He did not respond and was quickly gone from sight.

She left her luggage with the rest and then wandered along the platform for a bit, watching the students saying goodbye to their families. A pang of jealously hit her as she watched them. She never really thought of her family, the family she might have had. None of the abbey girls had families of her own, so she never thought of what she was missing out on while growing up. But watching the others now, she couldn't help but wonder how it might have been had her own parents been around, to have someone to hug and cry over you when you left and wait for you when you returned. It must have felt nice.

"Oi, Juvia!"

She raised her head and blinked, mind processing the fact that someone actually called for her by her first name. Typically, it was "Miss Lockser", followed by some veiled threat of kitchen duty.

She turned to the source of the voice and smiled. "Gray!" she called back, waving.

Gray maneuvered through the various groups congregating on the platform as he made his way to her. "You made it! Ready?"

She nodded, her blue locks bouncing around her. "Nervous, but ready. How about you? Wand hasn't exploded yet?"

"Not yet," he groaned, making a face. "I'm holding out for the first Charms class, though. If I make it through that, then I'll feel better. My dad was actually disappointed I only got to 13. He's threatening to have another kid just to spite Ollivander."

Juvia giggled. "Did you just arrive?"

"Nah. Been here a bit. Waiting on some friends. They're horribly slow, though. Where'd your escort go?"

"Professor Jose dropped Juvia off at the platform and left. She thinks he was very relieved to go."

"I imagine that's probably mutual."

"He was alright. He may not have been kind, exactly, but he wasn't mean to Juvia."

The boy grimaced. "That really should be the bar." She just shrugged in response. "You should stick around and meet my friends. It'll be good for you to get to know your new classmates."

Her lips twitched into a smile, but she wasn't given a chance to respond before a voice called out from behind Gray.

"Gray! Where'd you go?"

Juvia froze, blood draining from her face. She knew that voice. She heard it cry out in pain when her rain boiled.

She clutched the teru teru bozu doll as fear gripped her.

What if it happened again? What if she couldn't control the rain? Professor Jose was gone now. Who would stop her?

When Gray turned towards the voice, calling back to it, Juvia took her chance and darted into the nearest carriage.

* * *

"Over here, Lucy!" Gray called out to the approaching blond. Natsu was close on her heels.

"You ran off quickly. What's wrong?" Lucy asked, panting slightly from running after the boy.

"Nothing. Just wanted to grab Juvia before she got on the train," he replied.

"Who?" Natsu asked with a frown.

"Juvia. Juvia, this is -," he turned to introduce her but found her gone. "The hell?"

"Aren't you a little old for imaginary friends?" Natsu asked with a grin.

"Shut up, ash-for-brains," Gray snapped back. "Your ugly face must have scared her off."

"Who you calling ugly, droopy eyes?"

"You want to go, dumbass?"

"You two aren't fighting, are you?" came a stern and familiar voice from behind them.

"No, ma'am!" The boys cried out in unison, turning quickly to face the newly christened Erza Scarlet. There weren't many who didn't know the girl by her original name, but her guardian had deemed that it would be better for the girl to not carry the weight of her mother's name as she started her life at Hogwarts. Not that Erza Scarlet wasn't equally as terrifying as she had been as Erza Belserion.

"Good," she said, her arms folded over her chest. "What are you three waiting out here for? You should be on the train."

"Gray wanted to introduce us to his imaginary friend," Natsu replied.

"She's not imaginary, dammit. She just ran off," Gray growled.

"Who is she?" Lucy asked, trying to break in before Natsu prodded Gray into another fight that Erza would rather enthusiastically break up. She wanted to at least see Hogwarts before the four of them managed to get expelled.

"Juvia Lockser. I met her at Ollivander's. I wanted to introduce her to the rest of you. She's a Muggle-born and a little worried about Hogwarts. I was hoping meeting you all would help."

"Awwww, picked up a girlfriend already?" Gray groaned as Cana appeared behind him, draping an arm around his shoulder and pinching his cheek with her other hand. "Good job, Fullbuster. I'm so proud of you. You've come such a long way from that boy who used to run around the snow in his underwear at St. Rowena's."

"Shut up. And it's not like that," Gray snapped. "Don't you have someone else you could bother? Go find Loke. He's got to be around here somewhere."

The brunette smirked, still clinging onto Gray. "Please, Loke's probably already found a compartment filled with girls to flirt with. Besides! I have news! Well, Levy has news. Lev?"

The group turned as one to the small blunette behind them as she blushed at the sudden focus on her. "Erm... Well, you know how my dad works for the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes? He told my mum that there's a girl in our class who's summoning rain. Apparently, it never stops. She's from some island in Ireland where it hasn't stopped raining since she arrived there. The entire department had to work to get her from Ireland to London without anyone knowing."

Gray, who had previously been trying with little success to shove Cana off of him, froze.

_The sky._

He remembered her voice when she said it. Surprise, disbelief, fear, joy. All rolled together in that one phrase.

_The sky._

"You mean all this," Lucy pointed up to the rain falling cold and fast, "is because of a girl?"

Levy nodded. "According to my dad, anyways."

"That is an impressive witch," Erza said, impressed, as she eyed the sky above.

"I've never heard of a wizard able to control weather like that," Lucy muttered.

"I think _control _is a bit of a stretch," said Cana.

"Wait, does that mean it's going to rain everyday at Hogwarts? This sucks!" Natsu groaned.

"Shut up, Natsu," Gray snapped, finally managing to untangle himself from Cana. He remembered her crying as she looked up at the sky.

_It's beautiful._

"I'm just saying - imagine every Quidditch match in the rain for seven years," the pink-haired boy complained. "Why couldn't she have gone somewhere else?"

"Shut up, Natsu!" Gray's voice rose, drawing stares from others outside their group. His eyes turned to the carriage, looking for her face in one of the windows and failing.

"It's hardly the girl's fault, Natsu," Erza reprimanded, glaring at the pink-haired boy and causing him to shift behind Lucy who looked less than pleased at being reduced to human shield. "She's had nothing but rain for eleven years. If she can live through that, you can deal with a few rainy Quidditch matches. Besides, she's going to Hogwarts to learn control. I'm sure the Headmaster will be able to help her."

_It's beautiful._

Gray only hoped Erza was right.

* * *

Juvia made her way through the carriage, searching for a compartment. She had gone to the last carriage on the train, hoping to put as much distance between her and the girl as was physically possible.

She was overreacting. She knew that. The girl was probably perfectly nice and probably wouldn't have had said a thing about the rain, but it didn't really matter. Juvia couldn't risk it. She hoped to find an empty compartment in the back, but she seemed out of luck. Not that she ever had any luck to begin with. However, as she approached the end of the carriage, she did manage to find a compartment with just one occupant, someone very familiar, though they'd never been introduced.

She opened the compartment door, and the boy's red eyes focused on her.

"If you're one of my father's fangirls, piss off," he snapped.

Juvia blinked a moment before finding her tongue again. "Juvia doesn't know what that's supposed to mean."

"Then just piss off anyways."

"Juvia needs a place to sit."

"Find somewhere else."

"Why? There's an empty seat right here."

"Don't ya know who I am?"

"Other than ill-tempered, no."

His red eyes narrowed. "What are ya? An idiot? I'm a Redfox. Run away before I eat yer heart or something."

Juvia frowned. "Not a word of that made sense to Juvia."

He scowled. "Idiot. All the Redfoxes were Death Eaters. My parents were part of Zeref's personal guard."

"Still nothing. Muggle-born," she said pointing to herself.

He scowled, cradling his forehead in his palm. "They were dark wizards. They killed people. Lots of people. Understand?"

"Okay," she said simply as she sat down.

He paused, an eyebrow raised, Juvia noticing a single piercing at the edge of each eyebrow for the first time. "Okay?"

"Okay."

"Did you not hear me? My parents are murderers."

"Juvia heard. She just fails to see how that relates to you."

"Because I'm a Redfox!" the boy snapped, exasperated. "Redfoxes are murderers!"

"Have you murdered anyone?"

"I'm considering it," he muttered as he leaned back in his seat.

"If you haven't murdered anyone, then Redfoxes aren't murderers. Your parents were, but you are not them, so Juvia doesn't see why she shouldn't sit here."

He looked at her. "Yer an idiot," he said at last before sulking back in his seat, though he made no other attempt to chase her out.

"Juvia Lockser, by the way."

He glared at her before turning his gaze out the window. "Gajeel."

She smiled. "Nice to meet you, Gajeel."

* * *

The train trip up to Hogwarts went peacefully enough. Juvia talked through most of it, though she managed an occasional - if short - conversation with Gajeel. She was enjoying the exchange until Gajeel frowned, looking out the window. "Been raining the entire way so far. S'odd."

Juvia flinched. Part of her thought to stay silent, but she wasn't likely to be able to keep it quiet much longer. Besides, it wasn't as if she was the only one in the compartment judged for something beyond her control.

"It's Juvia's fault," she said quietly.

Gajeel frowned as he turned to her. "Whaddya mean?"

"Juvia makes it rain. She doesn't mean to. It just happens."

The boy's pierced brow furrowed. He looked out the window and then back at her. "Bollocks!" he said eventually.

Juvia flushed, not expecting that to be the response from the first person she ever told. "It is!"

"Yer going to tell me that ya can make it rain without trying. Yer an idiot."

Juvia pouted. "It's true!" Outside the rain pelted the train harder as she slunk back in her seat, her arms folded over her chest.

Gajeel's gaze shifted to the window and then back to her, red eyes narrowed. She frowned as he studied her but then yelped when he kicked her in the shin. Hard.

"What'd you do that for?" She cried, rubbing her leg, tears pricking at her eyes.

"Wanted to get you angry," he replied simply, turning his focus back to the window while the rain launched a full scale assault at the train, accompanied by the steady roll of thunder and clashes of lightning that split the sky one right after the other. "It's really storming now."

"Couldn't you have just said something mean instead?" she snapped.

"I like being direct. Ya really do make it rain." Juvia flinched, bracing for what was next. She wasn't sure what she expected, but she certainly didn't expect Gajeel to laugh a moment later. "This is great! This is some Zeref-level power, and it's in a Muggle-born! My folks would be livid if they knew! I wonder if I can write to them in Azkaban..." His smile stretched from ear to ear, sincere and strangely predatory all at the same time. "Yer something else, Raindrop. Giihii."

Anger and annoyance fled from Juvia in a flash, and she smiled back at Gajeel. The sky went silent as the rain returned to its gentle pattering against the panes. "You won't think so when you haven't seen the sky for three months," she said, her smile faltering.

Gajeel shrugged. "Eh, you'll get it under control, Raindrop. Ya strike me as someone who doesn't quit, even when she really should."

"Are you going to keep calling Juvia 'Raindrop'?"

"Does it bother ya?"

"A little," she admitted.

"Then yes." He grinned. "Giihii."

She pouted but felt pleased to have a nickname, even if it was _Raindrop_. She was finally making friends. "Gajeel?"

"Yea?"

"Were you at St. Rowena's too?"

Gajeel laughed. "Yeah, right. That would have been a great idea. Great way to be made a hostage, not that my folks would have given much of a damn."

"So, you haven't met anyone else starting at Hogwarts this year?"

"I met a handful of the other Death Eater children a few times. Some of them are already at Hogwarts. A few are starting with us, though. Not that I liked any of them much. Never ran across the St. Rowena kids even after the war ended. Well, met one, but that's because my uncle thought it'd do me good. Stupid pink-haired git," he muttered the last sentence under his breath.

Juvia fell silent for a little while, feeling like she was on the outside, looking in at a story that she had only had bits of pieces of. They'd all know each other. They'd all have history with each other, and she knew none of it. With hesitation, she asked, "Who's Zeref?"

The boy winced. "Why do ya want to know?"

"You said that your parents were part of his guard. It seems like he's important."

"Really don't want to be the person explaining that," the boy replied. "Can't ya wait for History of Magic? There'll probably be six weeks worth of lectures about him."

"Juvia thinks she should know. It seems like everyone at Hogwarts was impacted by whatever happened a few years ago. She thinks she should know before she makes a fool of herself or worse."

The boy seemed to think on it a moment and then heaved a sigh. "He was a wizard over 400 years ago."

"Wizards live to be that old?"

"Hardly. Least, not that I've ever heard. The first Zeref was just some ass who thought the world would be much better off if it were free of Muggles. War breaks out, lots of people die on both sides, war ends. Decades later, another ass calling himself Zeref comes around and tries the same nonsense. Coulda been the same Zeref, I guess, but doesn't really matter. Over the last four hundred years, every so often, some idiot names himself the new Zeref and off every damn idiot dark wizard goes to throw their lives and families away to serve some deluded madman."

"And this most recent Zeref?"

"Started up ten years ago, I guess. My folks were practically first to sign up. My da swore that he was the real thing. The real Zeref. But he's fucking daft, so I don't put much stock in it. Six years later, the prick's gone, my folks are in jail with the rest of the Death Eaters that didn't get killed along the way and I get to be raised by my ass of an uncle. Five years after that, I get to go to Hogwarts with the orphans that my fucking parents made, while everyone wonders whether I'm training to join the next Zeref's army. Good times," he muttered, staring out the window.

Juvia frowned, not sure what she could say now. "Thank you for telling Juvia," she said simply, deciding that she was well out of her depth and wouldn't be much of a comfort even if she could find the right words to say. He grunted in response.

The compartment went silent for a bit, the rain against the train the only sound as Juvia watched the gray landscape hurtle by.

"Feel free to tell me to piss off, Raindrop." Juvia turned to the boy, but he was still staring out the window. "But, what's with the third person?"

Juvia flushed and looked down at her hands folded in her lap.

"The words you're looking for are 'Piss off, tin head.'"

When she raised her gaze to find him looking at her, she gave him a small smile. "It's alright." She didn't want to talk about it, but he had talked to her about Zeref even though he hadn't wanted to either. It seemed only fair. After talking a deep breath, she said, "Juvia's an orphan. She's lived her entire life at an abbey, but because of the rain, no one liked her. No one wanted her around. No one even spoke to her. Not really, anyways. They talked about her, even when she was right in front of them, but they never spoke to her if they could help it. And even when they talked about her, it was always 'that child' or 'that creature'. The Reverend Mother would speak with Juvia when she had the time, but she was always busy running the abbey. She couldn't have Juvia underfoot every day. Even when she did talk to Juvia, it was always 'Miss Lockser'. Never Juvia. Juvia just wanted to hear her name, so she started saying it to herself, and it just sort of stuck." She pulled up her knees to her chest and set her head on them. "Everyone's going to think she's weird."

"If they do, fuck them. What do they matter?"

"Do you think Juvia is weird?"

Gajeel snorted. "Raindrop, I lived most of my life with people who willingly followed someone claiming to be over 400 years old without stopping to think that maybe, just maybe, the guy was out of his mind. Ya'd need more than rain and a liking to yer own name to be weird to me."

She gave him a small smile and let the conversation fall back into a lull again, and he didn't seem in any more hurry to restart it than she was. Movement out of the corner of eye caught her attention, and she turned to the corridor window where a couple of students were peering in to their compartment. When she noticed them, they hurried on, but they weren't the only ones. Juvia watched as every so often a new set of students peered in. Every time, they'd look inside and then hurry off once they realized she had spotted them. Juvia winced. "Juvia thinks they know about her."

Gajeel turned his attention to the compartment door as well, glowering at the students that appeared. Those that noticed his glare seemed in a far more hurry to run off. "Don't worry about it. It's probably me. No one likes a Redfox." He turned back to the window.

Juvia frowned but tore her gaze away all the same, hoping to be at Hogwarts soon.


	4. Chapter 4 - The Serpent's Daughter

Author note: Shorter chapter this time. Wherever you see -_italics- _, the words are meant to be in Irish Gaelic. Was going to actually try to translate the words, buuuut, yeah, I don't speak/write Irish Gaelic, and rather than make myself look like an idiot or accidentally call someone's mother something unpleasant, I'm just going to go ahead and use different notations.

CHAPTER FOUR

The Serpent's Daughter

The rain beat a steady rhythm on the carriage when it rolled into Hogsmeade Station, Juvia's paranoia manifesting in a downpour that matched the pulsing of her heart. She followed in Gajeel's shadow as they disembarked, letting the taller boy cut his way through the throngs of students, shielding her from view. But still, she heard the voices.

"That's her. I saw Professor Jose dragging her around Diagon Alley."

"She doesn't look like much."

"Is it really going to rain all school year?"

"Why'd they let her come?"

"Don't let them see they bother you, Raindrop," Gajeel muttered, just loud enough for her to hear. "They don't deserve to see."

Taking a deep breath, Juvia straightened, held her head up and joined the other first years as they gather around a man with a lantern. She picked out Gray in the group, and his eyes landed on her a second later. The Fullbuster boy smiled at her and she tried to smile back, but it was a weak effort at best. She looked away when the first years were herded to a series of small boats waiting on the lake's edge. The rain and wind sent waves across the lake's surface, leading more than a few of the students to eye the boats nervously.

Juvia, too used to the rolling sea to be nervous of a storm-stirred lake, had started her way to one of the small boats when a dark-haired girl grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. "Stop it already! It's a nuisance!" The girl glared at her.

Whatever fleeting courage she had tried to muster when following Gajeel fled her in a flash. Juvia flushed and stammered a reply. "Ju-Juvia can't. She-she doesn't know how."

"This is what happens when pathetic little mudbloods think they can do magic. They can't handle it." The girl folded her arms over her chest, glaring at the blunette.

Juvia tried to stare her down. Tried to be braver like Gajeel told her to be, but her rain betrayed her. It came down cold and hard.

"Shut yer face, Orland," Gajeel snarled, taking a step to place himself between the girl and Juvia before he flashed the black-haired girl a wicked grin, "or I'll show you a few tricks my folks taught me before they were carted off to Azkaban."

The girl paled and reflexively took a step back before seeming to find some semblance of a spine, even if she still largely looked like a cornered rat, desperately eying an escape. "Whatever. Have fun with your little mudblood girlfriend, Redfox," she said with a dismissive wave as she stalked off.

"Mudblood?" Juvia whispered to Gajeel as he gently pushed her to one of the boats.

"Tell ya later," he said as they settled in the small boat. Each boat seemed to sit four, but no one approached theirs, which was just as well. She couldn't see Gray among the boats nearby and the rain wouldn't let her see further. She took a seat at the front of the boat while Gajeel took one towards the middle holding on to the lantern for the boat. Juvia leaned forward as the boat propelled itself onto the lake, the other boats coasting along with them, rocking in the swelling waves. She couldn't make out a thing ahead, the rain and fog a wall between them, so she looked down to the lake instead. A moment later, she smiled.

"It's singing!" she whispered back to Gajeel.

"What?"

"The lake! It's singing! Just like the sea!" she beamed at him.

The boy's brow furrowed. "I don't hear a thing, Raindrop."

Juvia closed her eyes and sang along, using the words the sea had sang to her since her childhood. -_Sink with me, my love. Down with me, my love. To the sea, the loving sea-. _She sang soft at first, but the more she sang, the safer she felt, and her voice grew stronger. -_Be with me, my love. Safe with me, my love. With the sea, the loving sea-._ She heard the whispers still, but they didn't matter. Not now. The lake sang with her. The rest was all background noise. At least until Gajeel shook her shoulder.

"Oi, Raindrop, look!"

Juvia opened her eyes to find that the rain had largely dispersed, save the occasional patter against the lake's surface, and the fog had rolled back. The lake's surface had gone calm, and they all were gliding smoothly along now, but that wasn't what Gajeel was pointing to. Unobstructed at last, the towering castle of Hogwarts rose up into the night sky, shining like a beacon. Juvia's breath lodged in her throat.

"It's beautiful."

* * *

The boats docked along the shore a short time later. Gajeel scrambled out the boat first and helped Juvia climb out afterward. The group of first years followed the groundskeeper, up a number of stairs to where an older, sour-faced woman cloaked in red waited for them, her bright pink hair pulled back into a bun.

Gajeel and Juvia kept to the back, both ignoring the glances they received. They waited while the woman, who introduced herself as Madame Porlyusica, explained the Sorting Ceremony — Gajeel scoffed at the mention of a Sorting Hat but was quickly nudged by Juvia. "What do ya want from me, Raindrop? It's a stupid idea." — and then followed the woman and the rest of the first-years to the front of the Great Hall to be sorted in their Houses.

Juvia looked at the professors' table behind them on the dais and saw at once that Professor Jose was staring at her, feeling her skin itch a little at the realization. She also found that another professor, a little mustached man in brightly colored robes, was also watching her. When their eyes met, he smiled. A kind, warm smile that Juvia couldn't help but return. She kept that smile on while the woman at the front started with the first name.

"Alberona, Cana," she called out.

A smiling brunette girl climbed onto the chair on the center stage and the woman set a worn looking hat on the girl's head. After a short pause, the hat opened at some seam in its center and called out: "Hufflepuff!" A cheer erupted from what Juvia assumed was the Hufflepuff table as the girl slid off the chair and ran to join them, beaming.

"That's it?" Juvia whispered to Gajeel.

"I guess? I don't know more about this than you, Raindrop."

She frowned as a boy named Max Alors was called up next. The hat sat on his head just a moment before it called out Ravenclaw. "Which House do you want to be in, Gajeel?"

"I'll be in Slytherin," he muttered.

"That wasn't what Juvia asked."

He just grumbled a response.

Neither said anything further while the next few students were Sorted until Madame Porlyusica called out, "Dragneel, Natsu."

Gajeel groaned next to her, and Juvia glanced up at him quizzically. "I forgot that pink-haired idiot's in this class. His uncle's a friend of my uncle. The old man sent me to stay with them for a summer a few years ago. Trying to make us friends. Spent the entire trip trying to kill that damn idiot."

Juvia glanced at the aforementioned pink-haired idiot as he made his way to the stool, yelling, "I'm all fired up!" as he went. She caught sight of Gray as her eyes swept over the group. He was laughing, like that day at Ollivander's, and she smiled absently to herself as she watched him.

"Of course that idiot ended up in Gryffindor," Gajeel growled beside her, pulling her attention away from Gray. She turned to see the pink-haired boy bounding over to the Gryffindor table.

"Dreyar, Laxus."

The hall quieted a little and all seemed to be focused on a blond-haired boy as he approached the chair.

"Gajeel?"

"He's the Headmaster's grandson," he explained, answering the unspoken question, with a jerk of his head to the small professor who had smiled at her earlier. "His grandad's a good sort, allegedly, but his father was one of Zeref's lot. He's with my folks in Azkaban. Met the kid a couple of times before my folks went away. Didn't like him."

Juvia nodded in understanding and watched expectantly as the hat was placed on the boy's head. It paused longer than before, though the blond boy made no indication of irritation, concern or impatience. His impassive expression never changed. At length, the hat called out, "Slytherin!"

The table at the far end of the Hall erupted for the first time that night, cheering as the blond boy joined them, not that he seemed to care. His expression never changed. Juvia glanced at the Headmaster. He clapped with the rest of the professors, but the smile he had earlier was gone.

"Guess that answers who he takes after," Gajeel muttered.

Juvia would have asked more, but the next name immediately drowned away any thoughts of the professor and his grandson.

"Fullbuster, Gray."

Juvia had to bite down on her tongue to stop a squeal from escaping — it probably wouldn't have helped her already abysmal first impression — as Gray made his way to the chair. The hat scarcely touched his head before it called out: "Gryffindor!"

She clapped enthusiastically until noticing the stares she was getting. Flushing, she shifted closer to Gajeel. Gray paused on the stage and looked back at the unsorted first years. He caught her eye and smirked. _Told you_, he mouthed to her, and she grinned back at him. He left the stage and joined the cheering table.

A handful of students were sorted before Madame Porlyusica finally called out: "Lockser, Juvia."

"Good luck, Raindrop," Gajeel muttered.

Juvia moved forward, her feet seemingly knowing to move without her bidding. She glanced at the Headmaster who was smiling again at her and then at Madame Porlyusica, who, though not smiling, looked less severe than she had a few moments ago. As Juvia took the seat, she caught sight of Gray at the Gryffindor table, who grinned and held up a thumbs up at her. As she felt the hat set on her head, she closed her eyes.

_Well now, what do we have here?_ She nearly yelped as she heard a voice in her head. _I haven't seen one like you in quite a while._

_Like Juvia? Have you met others like Juvia?_

It, whatever it was, paid her no mind. _Now where to put you? You've power, of course, but little control. A good mind, a good heart, a strong sense of loyalty. So many possibilities, but where to put you? Hmmm… And what's this? Such determination. Such desire to conquer all within you, to make it obey you, to make others respect you. Slytherin will help you get there._

_Slytherin_? Juvia's blood ran cold. _Juvia isn't evil! She isn't! She doesn't belong in Slytherin._

_It has nothing to do with good or evil. Slytherin will make you great. What you do with that greatness is yours to decide._

_Please!_

_I am never wrong in this_, it told her. To everyone else, it announced: "Slytherin!"

There were no cheers. No applause now. The Hall had gone silent as her body moved forward in a fugue. She didn't look to Gray. She didn't look back to Gajeel. She stared at the floor, letting her feet take her where she needed to go, to the serpent's table, to the seats left vacant for the new students. She took one of the seats not occupied on other side and sat down, her eyes on the table, trying to ignore the whispers. Madame Porlyusica moved on quickly to the next student, but Juvia paid no mind. She stared at the table until she heard Gajeel's name called. She looked up to see the tall boy take a seat on the chair.

Much as if had when Gray had been called, the hat barely sat on Gajeel's head when it called out: "Slytherin!" There were a scattering of cheers from the Slytherin table, not that Gajeel seemed pleased to hear them. He scowled as he stalked his way to the seat next to her.

"Told ya I'd end up in Slytherin."

"That's still not what Juvia asked."

* * *

The feast began after the last of the students were sorted and the Headmaster had given his welcome speech. Gray picked at his plate, half-listening to the gossip around him, most of which was supplied by Lucy. She had been irritated to learn that the Juvia he had been about to introduce them to had been the same Irish rain witch that had half the school gossiping.

"I can't believe you didn't tell us you met her already, Gray. Entire train ride over and you didn't say a word about her," the blond scolded him. He merely grunted in reply, stabbing at his plate with his fork. "You went with her to get her wand, yeah? Did she really get an elder wand?"

Erza looked to the blond in surprise while Gray didn't glance up from his plate. "An elder wand? Are you sure?"

Lucy nodded. "Mira overhead one of the Professors talking about it."

"Is that really true, Gray?" Erza asked. The boy winced. Ignoring Erza was much more difficult than ignoring Lucy. Erza was simply not the type to let herself be ignored.

"So what if it is?" Gray snapped back irritably. The scarlet-haired girl narrowed her brown eyes at him, and he was dimly aware of Natsu sliding away to distance himself from the raven-haired boy. Still, Gray wouldn't back down even as his brain began to recite the last rites.

"What's wrong with an elder wand?" asked Mest Gryder, a Muggle-born first year, drawing Erza's attention away from Gray while the Fullbuster boy muttered a prayer of thanks to the Sorting Hat for placing the boy in Gryffindor.

"You don't see many wizards with elder wands. They're said to be unlucky. The Headmaster himself says they're trouble and won't use them. They're hard to control, and they're not always loyal to their owners," the girl replied. "I wonder that Ollivander gave one to a student and a first year, no less."

"Maybe he figured that she was already unlucky enough as it is," Loke offered. "Not like the wand can do much worse."

"What was it like when she got the wand, Gray? Did the Death Eater crest really appear?" Lucy asked.

"Wait, what?" His fork clattered onto the plate as he turned wide-eyed to the blond girl. "What the hell are you on about?"

"Cana heard from Laki who heard from Jenny who was told by…"

"Is there an end to this, Lucy?" Erza asked, fixing her glare on the Heartfilia girl.

"Well, anyways, they're saying that the elder wand summoned the Death Eater crest when she held it. You know, the green crown -"

"I know what the damn crest looks like, Lucy! We all saw it when… Well, we all saw it. And no, nothing of the sort happened. It just chose her, just like mine chose me or yours chose you. Can't believe you really listen to such idiotic garbage," he snapped.

"Enough," Erza said. "Hurry up and eat before we have to head to the Common Room. You want to know more about the girl, you can find out tomorrow morning. We have Potions with the Slytherins first thing."

The group fell silent for a bit, but Lucy still seemed eager to talk. Still, not even Lucy was going to directly defy Erza and talk about the rain girl. "Little surprise who ended up in Slytherin. All purebloods, all suspected Death Eater families," she said idly.

"Except the blunette girl," Natsu said as he gnawed on a chicken leg, the words muffled with his mouth otherwise occupied. "Not many Muggle-borns in Slytherin. They're gonna eat her alive."

Gray glanced at the Slytherin table, the cerulean blue waves easy to pick out, particularly since all the other Slytherin first years save the Redfox boy had given her a wide berth. She had a plate in front of her, but like him, she wasn't eating. She was looking to the ceiling, a wistful expression on her face. He looked up as well but only saw the enchanted ceiling, made to look like the night sky except for the clouds that blanketed the sky outside. Confused, he looked back again to her. Her expression was the same as before.

_The sky._

Realization hit him slowly and painfully. This was the first she'd ever seen stars either. Even if they were just a spell.

* * *

Gajeel and Juvia hung to the back of the group as the Slytherin prefects lead them and the other Slytherin first years down into the dungeons of the school, to the Slytherin dorms. Juvia followed in Gajeel's shadow, and he didn't say anything when her fingers gripped the arm of his robe as they descended further into the dark.

The group paused in front of a plain stone wall where one of the Prefects, a dark purple-haired girl, said something Juvia didn't quite hear. The stone wall pulled back, revealing the Slytherin Common Room. As much as she wished to be in any other Common Room at that moment, Juvia still felt her breath catch.

The Common Room itself didn't hold much interest for her. Elegant furniture decked in green and black were arranged around the room, and grand paintings and tapestries mounted the walls. She imagined that most would have seen the room as very fine, but to her, it was just cold and unfeeling. The Common Room rather reminded her of the abbey, beautiful but meant not to be touched. Meant to be worshipped, revered, but never touched. Just like the abbey, this was no home.

The windows, however, called to her. The Common Room, it seemed, was submerged deep beneath the lake's surface and had a number of floor to ceiling length windows, looking out into the lake. She couldn't quite see what was beyond the glass, dark and rainy as it was, but she could hear it. She could hear the song the lake sang to her coming from the windows.

Gajeel nudged her to get her attention back to the Prefects who were directing them to their respected dormitories. "See ya in the morning, Raindrop," he muttered to her before he started towards the boys' dorms.

"Good night, Gajeel," she whispered back. She followed the girls down to their dormitories. She stayed silent as they reached the dorm room, a number of four poster beds waiting for them, each of their trunks positioned at the foot of one of the beds. Juvia located her trunk and bed, relieved to find that it was positioned next to one of the dorm windows that peered out into the dark lake.

After changing quickly into her bedclothes, Juvia curled up beneath the covers. She said nothing to the other girls, and they said nothing to her, though they seemed eager enough to chat amongst themselves. Blocking out the sound of their voices, she focused instead on the gentle song coming from the darkness beyond. Exhausted from the day's events and comforted by the singing lake, she soon fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5 - Pink Potions and Pink-Haired

Author note: Going to try out shorter chapters for a bit and see how that works out. Again, wherever you see -_italics- _, the words are meant to be in Irish Gaelic.

CHAPTER FIVE

Pink Potions and Pink-Haired Idiots

_-Sink with me, my love. Down with me, my love. To the sea, the loving sea.-_

Juvia stirred in her sleep, the remnants of a dream slipping through her grasp.

_-There's no more pain, my love. No more rain, my love. Trust the sea, the loving sea.-_

Her eyes fluttered open, greeted for the day by the lake's gentle song as it floated in from the window beside her bed. She laid still, curled beneath the covers, listening to the song while she waited for her dorm mates to stir from their own sleep.

One by one, they rose from their beds, sometimes bidding a good morning to one another. Never to her. Not that it mattered. Not that she expected them to. Just as it had been in the abbey.

Well, almost.

When she arrived at the Common Room, Gajeel was waiting for her. He grunted a response to her quiet "Good morning." It was the closest to a Good morning greeting that she'd ever known. Smiling, she followed the Redfox boy out the Commons to the Great Hall to grab some breakfast.

* * *

"Man, I hate Potions," Natsu groaned as he, Gray and the other Gryffindors started their way down to the dungeons to attend their first class of the school year.

"You can't hate it. We haven't taken it yet," Lucy replied with a roll of her eyes.

"It's not real magic!" Natsu protested. "It's like cooking, but without getting anything to eat out of it! So it's worse!" Gray just groaned. "And we have to spend it with the Slytherins!"

"Think of it as an opportunity to show up Dreyar," Loke chimed in.

Natsu seemed to consider the idea but just ended up settling back into his griping about the class. Their little group meandered their way to the dungeons, Natsu and Lucy doing the bulk of the bickering as they went with Loke egging one or both of them on when he could.

Gray hardly heard them, a talent he developed when they all lived at St. Rowena's. Their arguments just faded into the back like white noise. He was surprised, though, how easily he heard another voice rise over the din.

"Juvia can't wait! Her first class in magic! Aren't you excited, Gajeel?" The girl's voice flitted in from behind. Gray unconsciously slowed his gait, lagging behind his friends.

"It's Potions, Raindrop," he heard the Redfox boy say.

_Raindrop?_

"Not like it's real magic."

"It is so! And Juvia's going to study hard and show she's every bit a witch as the rest of them." The pale blunette girl and the taller boy came into view, the girl's mouth set in a little determined line. The Slytherin girl seemed so focused in her little world that she swept by Gray without even raising her eyes.

Gray opened his mouth to say something but closed it as she kept walking towards the classroom door. The other Gryffindors waited just outside the room for him, Lucy and Loke less than subtly peering after the blunette girl as she passed them by to enter the classroom. The Redfox boy, however, stopped to glower at them.

"What are ya looking at, Gryffindorks?"

"Your face," retorted Natsu. "Wondering what curse managed to make you so ugly."

Redfox growled but then glanced inside the classroom and seemed to find something else to be irritated at instead. "Goddammit, Raindrop, we ain't sitting up front!" He disappeared into the room as Gray reached the others.

The group entered and split off into pairs, Gray going with Natsu and taking a seat a few rows from the front. Juvia, much to Redfox's apparent displeasure, had remained in her choice of a desk at the front of the room. He could see her profile from where he sat, see the glowing smile on her face and the way she played with the quill in her hands in nervous anticipation. A moment later, she seemed to sense his eyes on her. The smile faded as she looked over her shoulder towards him. Their eyes met for only a moment. She turned away, eyes on the Potions book on her desk while Gray frowned.

"What's with you?" Natsu asked, chewing on a piece of something he had taken with him at breakfast.

"Nothing. Shut up and get your book out."

"Why? Seriously, this is like the most useless class," Natsu complained. Far too loudly.

"Is it indeed, Mister Dragneel?" a cold and deep voice asked as Professor Precht entered the room. Tall and thin with a beard that stretched down well past his waist and an eyepatch over his right eye, Professor Precht was a somewhat imposing figure and, as the Slytherin Head of House, was not overly fond of Gryffindors to begin with. He glared at the pink-haired boy. "A master of Potions already, are you?"

"What's there to know? Put things in a pot, stir it a bit and done," the boy replied.

Gray groaned and cradled his face in his hand, wondering if it was too late to swap partners with Lucy. At least Erza wasn't going to get him poisoned by Precht.

"Shall we put that to a test, Mister Dragneel? I've never been one for teaching through lectures. One learns magic from doing magic, not by reading about it, so we'll do a hands on demonstration. We'll start with an easy potion. The Cure for Boils. A simple potion that even the greenest of wizards can accomplish given the right focus. But I'm not so cruel as to set you on your task without the least bit of instruction. Can someone tell Mister Dragneel what happens if you just throw in porcupine quills with the other ingredients when still over the fire?"

Surprised, Gray watched Juvia's hand shoot up.

"Miss Lockser?"

"The potion will melt the cauldron."

"Very good, Miss Lockser. Ten points to Slytherin," Professor Precht said with a nod to the girl.

A smile tugged at his lips as Juvia practically beamed at Precht, but it quickly soured when he heard Minerva Orland from a seat behind him.

"How cute. The mudblood thinks she's a real witch."

He turned to glare at the Slytherin girl before looking back to Juvia, hoping she hadn't heard it. By her sagging shoulders and downward stare, she obviously had. Redfox was growling, glaring behind him.

Professor Precht continued on. "Who can tell the class what happens if you stir counter-clockwise instead of clockwise?"

Juvia didn't move, her eyes still cast down to the desk, and the rest of the class remained still as well.

Professor Precht looked at the blunette girl, frowning. "Miss Lockser?"

She raised her head briefly when he called her. Then, her head bowing again, quietly answered, "The potion causes boils rather than cures them."

"Very good, Miss Lockser. Five points _from_ Slytherin."

Juvia's head snapped back up. "But Juvia answered correctly," the girl protested.

"Next time you know an answer, you will raise your hand. Understood?"

Gray scarcely heard the girl's, "Yes, sir," over Orland's snickering.

"And finally, how do you know when you've brewed the potion successfully?"

Juvia's hand rose slowly, the girl still looking to the table.

"Miss Lockser?"

"Pink smoke pours out from the potion."

"Correct again, Miss Lockser. Five points to Slytherin. Now, Miss Lockser has told you what happens when you brew the potion incorrectly and when you brew it correctly. Let's see how many of you can reach the right result. Page nine. Get to it."

A little of Juvia's previous enthusiasm returned. He watched as she flipped her book open and moved to the appropriate page long before Precht had even finished speaking.

"Better get going, droopy eyes," Natsu hissed at him from his right. "Precht's looking your way."

Gray glanced at the professor, getting a glare back in response, before hurriedly getting his book out. With one last glance at the blunette softly smiling as she grounded snake fangs in her mortar and pestle, Gray set to work.

* * *

"Don't look right," Gajeel muttered, tapping his cauldron with his wand. His potion was barely emitting smoke, and the smoke that it did let out was a little off in color, more purple than pink.

"Juvia thinks you might not have ground up your snake fangs fine enough," Juvia said, peering into the cauldron.

"A good assessment, Miss Lockser," Professor Precht said as he hovered over them. Juvia instinctively shrank down. "Still, a fair effort for your first potion, Mister Redfox. And very well done on yours, Miss Lockser."

"Thank you," she said softly.

"You're from St. Brigid's, yes?" She nodded. "I imagine Josephine taught you some of this." She nodded again, straightening a little. "She always was a good student. Keep her lessons in mind and you'll do well this year." Juvia smiled at him, though he merely nodded at her and moved on. He paused a short space later. "Mister Dragneel…," he sighed. He stepped back to their desk. "Miss Lockser, if I may." He took the cauldron from her desk without waiting for a reply and carried it back to the desk behind her.

Juvia and Gajeel turned back to see the pink-haired boy's cauldron melted and the boy's hand covered in boils, Gray shifted as far from the mess as he could at the table. "Giihii. Idiot," Gajeel laughed beside her. Precht poured some of the potion she had brewed onto the boy's hand, and the boils disappeared. With a wave of his wand, the remnants of Dragneel's potion vanished and his cauldron returned to normal. Once the scene had been set right again, Precht returned her potion back to her desk.

Dragneel examined his hand, sighed in relief and grinned at her. "Thanks, Blue!" he called out.

Juvia blinked. "Blue?"

"Shaddup, flame breath," Gajeel growled back.

"Make me, metal face!"

Precht sighed as a bell sounded. "Read chapters two and three before Wednesday. Miss Lockser, a word if you would," he said as he returned to his desk.

Gajeel frowned and glanced at her. She merely shrugged in response. "I'll wait outside," he muttered as the rest of the class moved for the door. She saw Gray glance her way, but she quickly turned her gaze back to her desk.

When everyone was gone, she approached Precht's desk where he sat, his hands folded together. "You would do well, Miss Lockser, to remember that you are a Slytherin. Slytherins do not let themselves be cowered by the tongues of the inferior, even if those inferior tongues are Slytherin themselves. Do not embarrass our House again, is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." He waved his hand to dismiss her, and she quickly darted out of the room. Gajeel waited by the door.

"You in one piece?"

She nodded but didn't say more.

"Good. Charms is next. Now we get to do some real magic. Giihii."

Smiling up at him, she followed him out of the dungeons.

* * *

Charms proved to be a far better subject for Gajeel than Juvia. Three weeks into the school year, and he seemed a natural when it came to wand work. No charm seemed to stump him. That day, he was one of the first to get his levitation charm to work, beaten only by a small blunette from Ravenclaw. He did his best not to look proud, but when Professor Gildarts commended him on his wand work, Juvia giggled at the smile on his face.

"Shaddup, Raindrop," he snapped, going slightly red.

"Can't help it. It's cute." She grinned before going back to her task. She flicked the wand again. "_Wingardium Leviosa._" Nothing. She frowned.

"It's yer accent. Yer drawing out the _gar_ part too much," he said. He did the charm again, enunciating far too well for someone whose English could be described as haphazard at best.

She tried again, and though the feather twitched, it failed to rise up. "Can Juvia go back to Potions?" she frowned.

"Giihii! Raindrop struggling? My day's complete!" His laugh was quickly cut short by a small elbow jabbed into his side. "Watch it, Raindrop, or I'll forget my rule about hitting girls."

"You've already kicked Juvia before."

"Huh. Yer right." He hit her in the arm back, though it was far softer than the kick on the train.

"Meanie," she pouted.

"Don't start fights ya can't win," he said. "Try again."

It took ten more minutes, but with Gajeel's guidance, she managed to get her feather to dance around her. A number of the Ravenclaws had been able to do the same by that point, as had Laxus Dreyar and Freed Justine from Slytherin, but Juvia didn't mind. She was beaming, watching the feather twirl about.

"Good job, Raindrop. Ya may not be hopeless after all."

"You'd kick her again if Juvia tried to hug you, wouldn't you?"

"Yes. Hands t'yerself," he growled, but he did indulge her in a feather fencing match, Gajeel winning handedly with his far greater control over his feather.

They were still refining the rules of feather fencing when the tall pink-haired Madame Porlyusica swept into the room. Professor Gildarts looked up. "Madame Porlyusica, can I help you?"

"I'm here for the Lockser girl. The Headmaster wants a word," she replied.

Juvia's feather fell as she tensed. Professor Gildarts turned to her. "Miss Lockser?"

"Can you take Juvia's books back?" she asked Gajeel. He nodded with a frown. After giving him a small smile that she hoped was reassuring, she joined the pink-haired woman. The woman nodded at her and swept back out the room, Juvia following mutely behind.

When they were some distance from the room, climbing a set of stairs upward, Juvia asked the woman. "Is-is Juvia in trouble?"

"Haven't the slightest idea," came the reply as she paused in front of a grotesque gargoyle statue. "Butterbeer bubblegum," she said with a roll of her eyes. The gargoyle shifted to the side to reveal another stairwell. "Makarov and his absurd passwords," she muttered as she started ascending, Juvia right behind.

Chewing on her lip mercilessly, Juvia lapsed into silence as the stairs wound ever upwards. By the time they reached another stone door, Juvia was starting to get dizzy from the height and endless turning staircase.

"In you go," said the woman before turning and descending down the stone staircase.

Juvia gulped before opening the door, immediately greeted by a cheery, "Good morning, Miss Lockser!"

When she opened the door fully, Professor Makarov was seated on his desk, cross-legged, a wide bright smile on his face. Feeling herself relax a little, Juvia entered and closed the door behind her. "Good morning, Professor Makarov."

"How have your classes been treating you?" the man asked.

"Good, Professor. Thank you," she replied stiffly, trying to read something in the man's demeanor or questions.

"Relax, Miss Lockser. You're not in any trouble. I merely had some time and wanted to see if I could help with _that_," he said, gesturing to the window where her rain pounded against the glass, stirred into a new frenzy by her nerves.

She paled a little and winced. "Juvia's sorry," she whispered.

Professor Makarov merely waved her off. "My dear, that is what Hogwarts is here for. We teach you how to use your magic. If you had full control, you wouldn't need us. Now, take a seat," he said as he hopped off the desk and motioned to a chair in the center of the chamber. She quickly climbed onto it, nervously clutching her robes. "It's fairly obvious that the rain is tied to your emotions. Unfortunately, your emotions tend to be negative in nature, hence the storms."

"Juvia's sorry," she said again.

"It's not your fault, child. The world's rarely kind to those that are unique. That it taught you grief before joy is its shame, not yours. But, it does lead to a bit of a challenge here. Still, Jose tells me the rain parted briefly when you received your wand at Diagon Alley, which is a good sign." He patted her hand and smiled at her. "A wand is used to focus your magic. It can help you do what you can't do on your own, so we'll use it to help control your magic now. Let's start with the incantation, and once we have that down, we'll move to the next step. Like this," he said, taking out his own wand and quickly flicking it in the air.

She mirrored his movements with her wand, and after some adjustments, he seemed satisfied.

"Good. Now, repeat after me: _Meteolojinx Recanto_."

She waved her wand. "_Meteolojinx Recanto_."

"Close, but a little too much emphasis on the last syllable. Like this."

Fifteen minutes later, most of which Juvia spent wishing that Gajeel were there instead, Makarov nodded. "Good, good. Time for the last step. What we need is to focus your emotions on something other than the ones that brought the storms. I want you to close your eyes, hold your wand close to your chest and focus on the happiest memory you can think of. The stronger the memory, the better."

The blunette girl thought on it a moment, closing her eyes. Tried to remember when she was happiest, not that she had many candidates to choose from. She thought of the sky. The beautiful sky. The way her heart soared as she looked at the endless blue.

"Good. Hold on to that memory and open your eyes."

When she did, she saw her wand glowing with a gentle blue-almost-white light.

"Now, come here," he said, leading her to the window, opening it so that the rain made its way into the chamber. "Point it up to the clouds and just as we practiced: _Meteolojinx Recanto_."

Taking a deep breath, she flicked the wand, pointing it towards the clouds and said, "_Meteolojinx Recanto_."

The light blue glow shot from the wand into the gray clouds above. The sky rippled from the point that the light struck it and for the briefest of moments, the gray peeled back to reveal a glimpse of blue sky. Her heart clenched, but no sooner had it appeared, the storm swirled and drowned it away again.

A strangled cry left her lips as her heart fell, but the diminutive Headmaster merely patted her hand, unconcerned. "There now, child. Don't despair."

"Juvia will never be free of it," she muttered, feeling tears welling in her eyes.

"Child, if you had managed to succeed on your first try, I would have had to tell Gildarts I was replacing him with you. Which I may still do, just to see his reaction," he said with a smirk, Juvia feeling her own lips threatening to twitch into a smile. "This is not a single fight. These storms did not stay with you for eleven years for nothing. There is no wizard that can change the core of their nature in a single half-hour."

"We will continue lessons until you're ready. I'll have Madame Porlyusica fetch you as I have time. Don't you worry. This was a good first step, but it's just one of many. We'll take them together, you and I."

Juvia clutched the teru teru bozo around her neck and forced a smile for him, desperate to believe what he said. "Thank you."


	6. Chapter 6 - Drowning in the Song

Author note: Welp, really short chapter this time around... I really should have combined the first part with the last chapter and the last two with the next. I think it would have been a better balance. Well, live and learn. Need to plot out my chapters a couple of chapters ahead from now on to get a better sense of the good break points. Poor Juvia. Promise this school year gets better for her. Eventually.

CHAPTER SIX

Drowning in the Song

The first time Juvia Lockser was ever grateful for the rain that followed her everywhere came during the first flying lesson of the year. In spite of Gray's assurances back when they first met in Ollivander's shop that flying was a simple matter, Juvia's stomach had twisted itself into knots by the time the Slytherins and Gryffindors first stepped onto the field, rows of brooms waiting for them. Her rain, in response, had whipped into a frenzied storm.

Mister Erigor, their flight instructor, had decided that trying to teach a bunch of first years how to fly for the first time in a gale was not going to be the wisest course of action, so he had Juvia sit out the first few weeks. She learned how to call a broom to her hand, but beyond that, she was left firmly on the ground and her rain, in her relief, relented enough for the other first years to get a series of safe practices in, hampered only by a slight drizzle.

By the sixth week, however, Mister Erigor had determined that rain or no rain, she had to get on a broom. While he had the rest of the class performing basic maneuvers and used the storm that manifested as an opportunity to teach them to navigate obstacles, he instructed Juvia to hover high over the field.

"Yer okay, Raindrop," Gajeel, who had been excused from maneuvers to assist the blunette, tried to reassure her. Juvia, however, was well beyond the comfort of any kind words. She trembled, head to toe, the broom she was sitting on shaking violently beneath her grip.

"Juvia wants to be on the ground now." She blinked back tears, desperate not to cry. Not in front of Orland and the others. She wouldn't let them see her like that, not that it was likely anyone could see her crying through the storm. If only she could stop shaking.

"I know, Raindrop. Just a few more minutes, okay?" he said, his voice far more gentle than she was used to hearing, devoid of the gruff irritation it typically carried. He hadn't once called her an idiot while they were on their brooms, which meant she must have truly looked pathetic. "Erigor just wants us to stay in the air a few more minutes more, okay?"

She nodded. Or tried to. She was shaking too hard for any gesture to be clear.

"You okay?" she heard another voice ask her. She didn't need to look to recognize it. She didn't acknowledge Gray, too worried that any word that came out would only end up as a sob.

"She's fine," Gajeel snapped. "Go play with yer idiot classmates."

"What's your problem, Redfox?"

"Right now, having to deal with you. Piss off."

"I just wanted to check on her."

The broom went still beneath her.

"Gajeel?" her voice quaked, her breath coming out in shallow gasps of air. "Juvia thinks —," whatever else she might have said ended in her scream as the broom bucked forwards and then lurched to the side, shooting off like an arrow unbidden.

"Juvia!" She heard Gajeel and Gray call out as she leaned in as close to the broom as she could, holding on for dear life. The broom had other ideas. It bucked and bolted, flipped one way then the other until she wasn't sure which way was up or down any further, her eyes shut tight. She felt fingers brush against her arm for just a second, but the broom darted forward again. She thought she heard Gray curse just beside her. She opened her eyes, looking for him or Gajeel, but all she could see was the swelling dark surface of the Black Lake below her. The broom turned even more violent then and her hands lost their already precarious grip. She felt a momentary sensation of weightlessness where she was neither moving up or down, but all too soon she felt the pull of the world on her and she fell, screaming as the lake called her home.

She only caught a glimpse of Gajeel and Gray diving for her before she hit the lake. Her breath fled her lungs as she hit the surface, and her vision darkened for a moment. Her body screamed under the force of the impact, every bone and muscle crying in agony, but she had to swim up. She had to. She tried. She did. But she couldn't seem to get her body to move. It wouldn't listen. She just kept sinking downward while the lake sang.

_-Sink with me, my love._

_Down with me, my love._

_To the sea, the loving sea.-_

She felt hands pulling her deeper into the dark.

_-There's no more pain, my love._

_No more rain, my love._

_Trust the sea, the loving sea.-_

She felt her lungs fill.

_-Drown with me, my love._

_Die with me, my love._

_Join the sea, the loving sea.-_

Everything started to go dark, but the last thing she saw as her eyes began to close was a great white light, reaching for her.

* * *

Hurt.

That wasn't fair.

Being dead shouldn't hurt. And yet it did. It felt like her chest was being punched from the inside. Like her lungs were being turned inside out. She started to cough.

Sound returned slowly. It started with a ringing buzz in her ears, but slowly the buzzing faded as voices rose to overtake it. So many voices. Most of them screaming at one another. They hurt. She struggled to make sense of them.

"Mister Redfox, be silent or I will use a Petrification Curse on you myself."

Professor Precht? Why was he dead?

"Come on, girl." Another voice this time. Serious but gentle. Madame Porlyusica? "Everything out. Get it all out."

The pain in her chest returned, and she hacked again, tasting a mix of lake water and bile as it rose through her throat and out her lips.

"That's a girl." A hand rubbed her back in gentle circles as she gagged on more lake water.

"Juvia!" Gajeel was calling to her. "Juvia, say something!" She tried to open her eyes, but she was tired. So tired.

"All this drama because she fell off her stupid broom," she heard Minerva scoff. Fell off? That's right. The broom. And the lake. Singing. She was so tired.

"It wasn't like that!" Gray now. "She didn't fall — someone jinxed the broom!"

"Orland, I fucking swear if it was you —," she didn't get to hear the rest of Gajeel's threat as the boy fell silent, interrupted by a _Silencio_ from Professor Precht.

She wanted to speak. She wanted to tell Gajeel she was okay, but it hurt. It all hurt. And she was cold. So cold. She slipped back into the dark.

* * *

She faded in and out of consciousness, not sure of how long, like she clawed her way to the shore only to be pulled back to sea again. The loving sea. She remembered flashes — Gajeel sleeping in a chair against the wall, Madame Porlyusica hovering over her with some tonic in her hand. There were others, faces and forms that passed by like shadows. She couldn't be sure if they were real or just fragments of dreams floating by.

She first woke fully to a gentle touch on her forehead, warmth spreading from that touch and pulling her from the drowning sea. Her eyes, struggling, managed to open but they felt weighted and keeping them open was exhausting. Professor Makarov seemed to know that.

"Just a few minutes, my girl. Then you can sleep again." She tried to nod, but she felt so heavy. "Do you remember anything before the broom started to bolt around?"

"It went still," she said. Her voice sounded even. Clear. Even as the rest of her body struggled to remain awake. "Then it started to move."

"Before that. Did you see anything? Hear anything?"

"Juvia wasn't paying attention. She was too afraid of falling. She just heard Gajeel and Gray. They were arguing again."

"What about when you were in the water?" he asked. "Did the selkies speak to you?"

"The selkies?"

"The selkies in the lake. They were pulling you down when I arrived. Did they say anything?"

"No. Just the lake."

"The lake?"

"It sang," she replied, her words starting to slur, sleep returning. "Drown with me, my love. Die with me, my love. Join the sea, the loving sea." He didn't say anything further. "Join the sea," she sang as she slipped away, pulled back to the sea again. "The loving sea."


	7. Chapter 7 - Quidditch and Curses

CHAPTER SEVEN

Quidditch and Curses

Torrential storms plagued the school the entire week after the little rain witch was pulled from the lake. An endless assault of wind, rain and lightning waged war against the castle, severe enough that several charms had been placed around the school to protect it from the worst of the damage.

As many of the other students had, the Gryffindor group paused on their way to the dungeons to watch the latest battle between castle and storm from the safety of one of the covered walkways.

"Think she'll wake up soon?" Natsu asked idly from his spot along the wall, looking over the courtyard as one of the shield charms around the castle repelled another bolt of lightning. The blast dissolved in a flurry of sparks that illuminated the courtyard.

"Not enjoying the storm?" asked Loke.

"Well, the first Quidditch game is in a couple of days."

"Enough, Natsu," Erza muttered.

Gray didn't have the strength to echo the sentiment, lack of sleep over the last week wearing him down. The memory kept repeating. Every time he closed his eyes, it replayed in his head. Her scream. The fear in her face. The last view of her as she disappeared into the lake's dark waters.

It never left him. Redfox had hit the water first, and Gray could scarcely see him when he went in a couple of breaths later. Juvia was nowhere to be found. He fought like hell to swim further down into the lake and then fought like hell against the spell that dragged him out again, struggling to get back into the lake until Professor Makarov appeared in a clash of sound. A moment later, a light pierced the lake and then Juvia emerged from it, so still and small and pale. He wanted to erase that image from his mind but it was all he saw when he shut his eyes.

"Think they've figured out who did it, yet?" Lucy asked.

"They aren't going to tell us when they do," Loke snorted.

"It was probably Orland," Natsu said. "Or maybe Laxus."

"That's not an easy jinx. I doubt Minerva could pull something like that off," Erza replied. "I doubt even Laxus could manage it. I think it's far more likely to be an older student or one of the professors."

"That's not a comforting thought," Lucy muttered. "What do you think, Gray?"

Gray felt the eyes of his friends on him. He knew they were worried. He hadn't really said or done much since Juvia had been rushed to the Infirmary, but he didn't feel like saying anything now. "I think it's time for Potions," he replied as he left the wall to head towards the dungeons. The others followed quietly behind him.

Redfox was already in the classroom when they arrived. Gray spared him a glance, the Slytherin boy even more sullen than normal, surrounded by his own notes and what he assumed were Juvia's. Gray didn't bother asking how the blunette girl was as he passed the boy to take a seat behind him. The rain outside was answer enough, and even if it wasn't, the Redfox boy wasn't likely to tell him anything anyways.

Gray took his usual seat next to Natsu, ignoring the pink-haired boy's attempts to prod him into a fight and focusing instead on preparing for class as Professor Precht entered.

Class went on as usual until about half way through when the dungeon door groaned as it announced the arrival of Caretaker Macao. The caretaker quickly approached Professor Precht's desk and spoke a few words in hushed tones to the professor. The older man merely nodded in response and dismissed Macao with a wave of his hand. Once the caretaker had left, the old professor motioned to Redfox who dutifully rose and approached the desk. A couple of seconds and some quietly spoken words later, Redfox darted out the room, Precht calmly returning to the papers he had been reviewing as if nothing had happened.

Gray stared at the old professor, trying to glean some sort of information from the man, but the professor's detached and disinterested demeanor betrayed nothing.

"Psst. Droopy eyes, your cauldron's overflowing," Natsu hissed at him.

Gray ignored him as he stood up and approached Professor Precht's desk. The old man didn't even look up from his papers.

"May I help you, Mister Fullbuster?"

"Where did Redfox go?"

"Been promoted to hall monitor, have we, Mister Fullbuster?"

"Was it about Juvia?"

The man heaved a sigh and looked up at the boy. "Miss Lockser is awake and out of danger. Madame Porlyusica asked to have Redfox sent to the Infirmary to help with the girl. That is all. Now, return to your seat. Your potion's about to ignite."

Whipping around back towards his desk, Gray just caught sight of Natsu as the pink-haired boy was about to add a handful of dragon talons to Gray's cauldron. "Shit, Natsu, not -!"

An explosion cut off whatever else Gray might have said. When the smoke cleared, a slightly singed and soot-covered Natsu grinned at him. "That was awesome!"

Behind him, Professor Precht sighed. "Ten points from Gryffindor."

* * *

"Ya didn't eat anything. Yer going to get yerself sick again, ya idiot," he growled.

"Juvia just wasn't hungry," she replied, still so tired. "Juvia did eat some, though." She didn't mention to Gajeel that the little she did eat was now violently waging war on her insides. He'd have her back in the Infirmary in a heartbeat.

"Ya should be resting, not going to class."

"Juvia's been resting for a week now. She'll fail if she keeps resting."

"I took notes," Gajeel protested, the words almost coming out in a pout. She gave him a weak smile.

"And Juvia appreciates it, but she needs to be able to attend class too."

"Just don't overdo it or I'm hauling yer dumb ass back to the Infirmary."

Juvia smiled at him and then entered the History of Magic classroom. She knew Gajeel hated the class - the name Redfox popped up way too often for the boy's liking and usually on the wrong side of conflicts - but to her, it was fascinating. An entire world she knew absolutely nothing about.

They took a desk to the front, Gajeel not complaining for once, and readied for class. Juvia tried to take her book from the boy but he pulled it out of her reach with a glare. He opened it and set it on the desk for her.

"Juvia is not an invalid."

"Ya were twenty-four hours ago," he snapped back.

She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Yer lucky I don't hit sick people."

"You said the same thing about hitting girls."

"Get yer notes ready."

Juvia was flipping through the chapter, trying to speed-read what she had missed when there was a small cough to her right. She glanced over to see another blue-haired girl, shorter than she was, standing next to her. Juvia wasn't quite sure how to react. No one approached her outside of the occasional professor.

"Hello," the girl said quietly.

Juvia tried to place the name. Mc-something. McGarden. That was it. She liked the name. The garden part of it, anyways. "Erm... hi," she said at last, realizing that she hadn't said anything yet. Next to her, Gajeel muttered something.

"Are you okay?" the girl asked.

"She's fine. Now scram," snarled the boy to her left. McGarden flinched back, looking paler. Two Ravenclaw boys standing behind her seemed ready to reach for their wands.

"Gajeel," she scolded the boy with a weak kick that he kindly didn't retaliate against. Yet, anyways. "Juvia is fine now, Miss McGarden. Thank you."

"That's good. If you need any help getting back up to speed, I'm more than happy to share my notes."

"Thank you, but Gajeel has been taking notes for her. Juvia appreciates the offer, though," she smiled. The other blunette smiled timidly back and went to find her seat.

"You can't be mean like that, Gajeel. She wasn't doing any harm."

The boy frowned. "Someone jinxed your broom."

"And Juvia doubts it was the Ravenclaw girl. You told Juvia yourself that the jinx is a difficult one."

"And she's the best student in Charms," he grumbled.

"Out of a bunch of first years. Juvia imagines that even the best first year isn't likely to pull off such a jinx."

He grunted a response, the usual sign that she was winning an argument. Whatever else that Juvia might have said, though, was cut off by Professor Jura's arrival.

"Good morning, class," Professor Jura called out. "Let's turn to chapter twenty-three, the 1746 Redfox Rebellion."

Juvia heard a thud beside her followed by a groan. She turned to pat the face-planted Gajeel's back sympathetically.

* * *

"We shouldn't be going."

"It's the first Quidditch game of the year, and it's Slytherin versus Gryffindor," Juvia said. "Juvia thinks it's actually a requirement to go. She heard one of the Prefects threatening to turn some of the students who were planning on staying in the Common Room into skrewts. She's not sure what a skrewt is, but she imagines it's not good."

"Yer cold. Yer sick. And it's a stupid game played by stupid people," Gajeel grumbled, folding his arms over his chest.

Juvia smiled softly, knowing full well what was bothering Gajeel. It was hard to miss the trophy case that had pride of place in the Slytherin Common Room, particularly the picture of the Quidditch team celebrating around the Quidditch Cup over fifteen years prior. It was also hard to miss their raven-haired, red-eyed captain who could have almost been mistaken for his son were it not for the hair neatly combed in contrast to the wild mess of hair Gajeel wore.

"It's okay to like Quidditch, Gajeel. Just because your father was on a Quidditch team doesn't mean anything."

"He wasn't just on a Quidditch team, Raindrop," the boy said with a groan. "He was a friggin legend in Slytherin! He was the best Keeper Slytherin's had in a century."

"So?"

"They'll all expecting me to be just like him. Well, screw them and him. They ain't getting a Redfox Keeper this generation."

"For what it's worth, Juvia thinks you'd make a terrible Keeper."

"Thanks, Raindrop," Gajeel growled, flushing slightly.

"Juvia thinks you'd be better as the one that hits those really angry balls -"

"The Bludger.

"Yeah, that one. You'd be good as the person who goes after the Bludgers -"

"The Beater."

"Yeah. Him."

"I know you're not this dense about Quidditch," he said as he glared, red eyes narrowed on her. It was an expression that had many people shrinking back, but all it did was coax a grin onto her face.

"Of course she is. You need to go with her so you can explain it all to her. Or else she'll look like a complete idiot, and you wouldn't want that, would you? Come on, Gajeel, please," she pleaded, pouting.

After a moment, he sighed in defeat. "Fine, but if we're sitting up there, ya need to wear yer scarf properly," he said as he adjusted the aforementioned item around her neck. "Ya get sick again, I'm not visiting yer stupid ass at the Infirmary. First second ya cough, we leave. Got me?"

She nodded and smiled.

* * *

"And did ya see the way Denton muscled right through Fletcher and McDougall to score off of the Bludger hit on Rothwell?"

Juvia giggled softly as Gajeel continued his recap of the game, careful not to let the cough that bubbled up in her chest out. Despite his misgivings, Gajeel had been utterly enthralled with the game three seconds after the Quaffle was thrown into the air. All Juvia had to do was keep the urge to cough and scream suppressed, the former proving largely easier than the latter, particularly when a sudden dive by one of the players mirrored her nightmares a little too well. She managed to get through the game mostly silent, save a few small coughs, through sheer will, determined not to spoil the event for Gajeel. It was an effort well rewarded. It was the happiest she'd ever seen the Redfox boy. Even her rain had largely behaved, keeping to only a slight drizzle for most of the game.

"It was brilliant!" he grinned.

"You realize that was a Gryffindor goal, right?" Juvia reminded him.

"Eh, who cares? The Slytherin keeper is trash anyways."

"Best not let anyone hear you. They'll think you're a terrible Slytherin."

"We are terrible Slytherins," he said, draping an arm over her shoulder. "Giihii!"

Juvia smiled. "Juvia likes to think so." Her smile faltered, however, as Madame Porlyusica approached the pair, stern and sober as always. Gajeel tensed as well and stepped away from her.

"She coughed twice when we were at the Pitch," he said before the pink-haired nurse even had a chance to speak.

Juvia glared at the boy. "Tattler."

"She had half a gallon of lake water in her lungs last week, Mister Redfox. She'll be coughing for a while yet. It's nothing to be concerned about. It's also not why I'm here. Headmaster Makarov would like to see you if you feel up to it, Miss Lockser," the woman said. Juvia nodded, and Madame Porlyusica turned and headed towards the Headmaster's tower, Juvia following quickly behind after a wave to Gajeel.

Juvia knew the way to the Headmaster's office well enough by now. She hardly needed an escort. Professor Makarov had been diligent in keeping his promise to her. He sent for her one or twice every week to further refine the spell that would hopefully one day free her from her rain. Progress, however, had remained slow. Though she had become better versed in the spell, the most it had given her was a few seconds longer of patched blue sky before her storm swelled and returned.

Still, she followed Porlyusica obediently. When they were once again at the gargoyle statue with password provided, the woman finally spoke to her. "Have you been coughing often?"

"Not often. Just once in a while."

"How often is once in a while?"

"Maybe a couple of times an hour?"

"Hrm. Stop by the Infirmary once you've spoken with the Headmaster. I'll have you take another dose of medicine."

Juvia grimaced, knowing full well what the medicine would be. She almost preferred the lake water. "You just told Gajeel that it was normal for Juvia to be coughing."

"I can't abide having a second nursemaid hovering around. He needs to focus on his studies and leave your health to me. I want you to stop by after class over the next week."

"Juvia really feels fine."

"Would you prefer that I have you confined again to the Infirmary?"

"No, Madame Porlyusica."

"Then every day, after class, for a week. Understood?"

"Yes, Madame Porlyusica."

"Good." The dour woman paused before the office door at the top of the winding stairs. "In you go, then." Unlike other times where she merely deposited the girl at the door and then headed downstairs, she opened the chamber door herself and called in, "And Makarov, if you distress her, I'll replace your heart medication tonic with vinegar. I won't have you sending her back to the Infirmary. It's a nuisance. Can't get anything done with so many people around underfoot," she muttered as she turned away and headed down the stairs.

"Welcome back, my dear," the Headmaster called out as Juvia entered the room. He wasn't sitting on the desk as he normally was. Instead, he sat behind it in the desk chair that he so rarely used in her presence. And the chair that was normally pulled into the center of the chamber for her was now placed on the other side of the desk, a pot of tea and two cups placed and waiting for them. "Come, sit down." He waited patiently as she climbed onto the chair he motioned to. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, good."

"Juvia's sorry, sir, but she hasn't had a chance to practice the charm this week."

The Headmaster snorted. "I rather think you have an excuse, my girl. That's alright. I didn't bring you here to work on the charm today. I rather think that it'll be a few weeks before you're strong enough to try again. No, I wanted to speak to you about what happened last week. Do you remember me talking to you at the Infirmary?"

Juvia nodded. Not many memories were clear to her from her time in the Infirmary. The few she did remember, she half-believed she'd imagined. The Headmaster's visit, however, was as clear and bright as the memory of the Quidditch game she'd just seen.

"You mentioned to me something about the lake singing to you. Do you remember that?"

"Yes, sir."

"Does it sing to you often?"

"Yes, sir. Every day it sings. The sea used to as well when Juvia lived on Inis Stoirm."

"And how long has the sea been singing to you?"

Juvia paused and thought it over a moment, the diminutive Headmaster watching her intently as she did. There was no disbelief in his expression as Gajeel sometimes had whenever she talked about the singing lake. He just seemed contemplative. Concerned. "Juvia can't remember a time then the sea didn't sing to her. It wasn't always clear what it was singing, but it always sang."

"Is it female? Male?"

Juvia paused again and then frowned, her brow furrowed. "Juvia doesn't know. It doesn't sound like anything."

The old man seemed to be lost in thought as he poured tea into both cups. He handed one of the cups to Juvia. She took it and drank from it quietly while he stirred his cup idly with a spoon.

"Is there something wrong with Juvia?" She asked after a moment's hesitation. "Well, more wrong with Juvia than everyone already knows?"

He looked up at her and smiled softly. "My girl, there's nothing wrong with you. Your rain's just a manifestation of your power. It's natural for children to have less control over their power. You're certainly not alone in it. The Dragneel boy still sets fire to his bedsheets every other week. You just have an unusual amount of strength behind that manifestation, and it takes a form that's harder to hide away."

"But you're worried about the lake?"

His smile faltered.

"Juvia isn't mad."

"I didn't say you were. Magic takes a number of different forms and a number of different paths. Anyone who claims to know all the ways it can manifest is deluding themselves. This may just be another manifestation of your abilities. Perhaps, as you gain more focus, you'll find that you hear the lake less."

Juvia studied the man's countenance, the way his eyes wouldn't quite look directly at her, the way he twisted the cup in his hands, never drinking from it. "You don't believe that. What aren't you telling Juvia?"

His eyes finally met hers, somber, serious. Like Madame Porlyusica trying to evaluate whether or not the tonic was doing Juvia any good. "Magic takes a number of different forms, not all of them good. The Ministry took a keen interest in you when you were younger. As part of their interest, a number of wizards evaluated whether or not you were under some form of curse that might have explained the storms. They all failed to find any sign of a curse."

"Then Juvia isn't cursed?" She asked, more than slightly skeptical of the notion. She had eleven years that quite vehemently claimed the contrary.

"I merely said they never found a sign of one, but I'm concerned they were looking at the wrong symptoms. There are curses that I've heard of that have similar effects to your song. Nothing exact, but similar enough that I think it warrants more investigation."

"What sort of curses?"

He shook his head. "There's no sense in jumping to a conclusion yet. Nothing I could tell you now would be more than idle speculation, and that won't do you any good. I need to find out more. For now, though, promise me you'll stay away from the lake. Will you do that?"

Juvia nodded after a second's pause.

"Good. As I learn more, I will tell you, but as you learn more, you need to do the same. I can't keep you safe when I don't know what I'm keeping you safe from. Deal?"

"Deal."


	8. Chapter 8 - Rolling Back the Storms

Author's Note/Whining: This chapter took a bit longer. Struggled a bit with it. Some chapters I have really clear in my head, and it's an easy matter to get them onto paper. Others, I have to pull kicking and screaming from the ether. This chapter most definitely falls in the latter category. Been trying to keep close to a weekly cadence on these chapters, but this one just took longer to get out in a semi-decent state. Sorry about that.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Rolling Back the Storms

The second time that Juvia Lockser was ever grateful for the rain that followed her was when she realized that people were far more forgiving of snow than rain.

During late November, a chill took hold of Hogwarts. Her endless rain turned white and soft and blanketed the school in crisp white snow. Inis Stoirm had never been cold enough to turn her rain into anything more than freezing sleet that coated the pathways. All it was good for was making walking a hazard for the Sisters and other girls as they cursed her existence yet again. Here, though, as Juvia and Gajeel emerged from the dungeons on their way to the Great Hall one weekend, they were greeted by the sound of laughter and excited chatter coming from outside the castle walls. Curious, Juvia stopped by one of the windows and peered out into a world turned bright and new.

"Gajeel! Gajeel, look!"

The Redfox boy paused next to her. "S'just snow, Raindrop," he said, looking far less excited than Juvia at the change in scenery.

"That's snow?" Juvia asked with a small gasp. Some of the stories she read in the abbey's books had written about snow, but the image she had crafted in her head paled in comparison to the scene that stretched before her.

"Ya've never seen snow, either? Raindrop, ya really need to get off that island."

Juvia ignored the boy's comment, latching onto his arm. "Let's go outside!" she said as she attempted to drag the boy with her to the nearest door.

The boy stayed right where he was, Juvia's attempts at pulling him laughably ineffective. "I'm hungry," he said, glowering at her.

"You can get breakfast later! Please, Gajeel!"

"Fine, fine. But ya ain't goin' out like that. End up back in the Infirmary, and ya just stopped coughin' last week. Come on." With far greater ease, Gajeel grabbed a hold of the blunette's arm and dragged her back to the dungeons, the little newly-crowned snow witch resisting the entire way to try to get back to the window and its winter landscape. When they were back in the Common Room, she was sent to her dorm to get her heaviest coat, woolen hat and woolen gloves and only when she arrived suitably attired did Gajeel agree to let the blunette head back up the stairs to the waiting wonderland.

Once back upstairs, Juvia was out the door in a flash, Gajeel following behind at a much more leisurely and reluctant pace. Juvia darted out on to the fresh snow, unable to suppress the laugh that burst out of her as she felt the snow crunch beneath the feet, felt the flakes of snow that fell soft around her, for once spared the pelting of rain drops. She had only just paused when she felt something strike her from behind. She spun around, half-expecting to see Minerva or one of her other dormmates and their sneering faces, but all she found was Gajeel grinning back at her, another freshly packed snowball in his hands.

"And now, Raindrop, I'm gonna show ya the only thing snow's really good for. A good fight!"

Juvia shrieked and ducked away as another snowball hurtled towards her, clipped just in the shoulder. The missile burst into soft powder on impact.

"Come on, Raindrop! Pick up a weapon and fight back!" The Redfox boy called out as he reached down to make another snowball. Juvia scrambled to make one herself, but the snowball didn't make it very far, falling apart long before it reached the other Slytherin. The boy shook his head. "Time out!" he called, tossing his current ammo onto the ground as he approached the girl. "Step one to a good snowball fight is making a decent snowball. Watch."

After a few minutes of instruction on the proper tactics to packing a snowball, the fight resumed with Gajeel winning handedly until Juvia figured out that her slight frame and quicker speed gave her a far better advantage when it came to ducking behind trees and other cover.

Once Juvia had had enough of the fight, collapsing into the snow panting for breath, Gajeel declared victory and then joined Juvia in a far less violent activity, making snowmen, only grumbling occasionally about the ache of his stomach. At least until a new challenger appeared in the form of the Dragneel boy. After a surprise attack on the Slytherin pair that decapitated their just finished snowman, an all out battle began between Dragneel and Gajeel while Juvia ducked behind a tree to avoid the crossfire. It was clearly not a fight for novices.

The battle continued until the two found a common target in Laxus Dreyar and his group who had just emerged from the castle. After an initial volley that landed a couple of good hits on Freed Justine and Bickslow Kerry, wands were pulled out and both Dragneel and Gajeel were buried beneath a snow drift a half moment later.

When Dreyar and his lot retreated back indoors again, Juvia snuck out from behind her tree and began digging out Gajeel, the Redfox boy letting out a long string of curses as she did. "Dammit, Dragneel, this is yer fault. If ya hadn't tripped me, I woulda knocked Dreyar on his ass."

"Dream on, tin head. You couldn't hit the broad side of a castle," the pink-haired boy snapped back, the words muffled a little underneath the snow.

"Just wait 'til I get my arms free, flame breath."

"Gajeel, would you hold still? You're just knocking more snow back onto you," Juvia scolded as she shoveled more of the snow away.

"Just use a charm."

"You're the charm expert. Juvia's not. She's just as likely to bury you as get you out. Now hold still."

Ten minutes later, Gajeel was free. With a parting curse to the Dragneel boy, he started towards the Great Hall. "Come on, Raindrop."

"Blue, wait! Get me out too!" Dragneel called out to her. She paused and then took a step towards the boy, only to be dragged away by Gajeel.

"Hell no. Ya stay where ya are until yer idiot friends come and dig ya out. Let's go, Raindrop. I'm starved."

"Gajeel -," Juvia started as she stumbled after Gajeel, struggling to keep pace with the other Slytherin who hadn't yet let go of his hold on her arm.

"Nope. Idiot deserves to cool down a bit."

"He'll catch a cold, and it'll be Juvia's fault."

"He's a Dragneel. They don't get colds, the flame-brained idiots. Too stupid to get them. Don't worry, he'll probably melt the snow himself in a few minutes."

Still protesting, she nonetheless followed Gajeel to the Great Hall. They found a couple of empty seats at the Slytherin table as trays of food apparated in before them. Gajeel immediately began piling food onto his plate while Juvia glanced over to the Gryffindor table, looking to where Gray and his friends sat chatting over their breakfast.

She wanted to go over and tell them about Dragneel. She did. But her courage failed her. She was a Slytherin. Just an evil Slytherin git. Another dark wizard in training, just like the ones that had destroyed their families and their homes. What right did she even have to go and talk to them? He wouldn't even want to see her, would he? Not likely. Not anymore. Her doubts keeping her firmly planted in her seat, she poked at her food absently.

"Eat somethin'," Gajeel ordered between mouthfuls.

Juvia made a face at the black-haired boy, but she obediently shoved a forkful into her mouth. Once she had eaten enough to satisfy Gajeel and once he had finished devouring a bit of everything in sight, she darted back out of the Great Hall, Gajeel following behind leisurely. She ran back outside to find that Gray and the other Gryffindors had found the Dragneel boy by this point, though none of them seemed to be in any hurry to dig the pink-haired boy out again. Her courage failing her yet again, she ducked behind one of the trees to watch the group.

They were piling snow onto the Dragneel boy, but she hardly noticed. Her eyes found their way to Gray. He was leaning back against one of the trees, arms folded over his chest, laughing as Heartfilia and one of the other Gryffindor boys, Loke Llewellyn, dumped another armful of snow on to Dragneel, the pink-haired boy complaining incessantly all the while. In spite of the cold, she felt warm and bright as she watched him, a smile spreading across her face.

He was happy.

She made him happy. In a roundabout way.

It was her rain. Her snow. Her curse. It made him smile. For a moment, she didn't feel like the cursed little rain witch of Inis Stoirm. For a moment, her rain felt like the blessing that the abbess had always insisted it was.

"Why's yer face so stupid?" Gajeel asked as he walked up next to her, munching on an apple he had brought with him from the Great Hall.

"Juvia's face isn't stupid," she snapped back.

"Not normally it ain't, but it is now."

"Is not."

"Come on, Raindrop. Too many Gryffindorks 'round here. We'll go find some other spot." The other Slytherin stalked off.

Juvia, after one last glance at Gray, trotted after him.

* * *

"Aren't you going to start packing?" Juvia asked as they watched one student after another drag up trunks into the Common Room.

The two Slytherins had camped out in their usual spot, a window seat by one of the great floor to ceiling windows that faced out into the lake. One of the Common Room's many large tapestries - a massively ornate scene bearing the crest of some house long forgotten - hung from just above the window and swept down to the floor, hiding most of the seat away and obscuring them from the other students. Only a small portion of the seat remain exposed, leaving them a way to peer out but only giving some ability for others to peer in It reminded her of her little alcove in the abbey, a secret spot to keep her hidden and safe from the other girls and Sisters, though this hiding spot was large enough to also shelter Gajeel. Her alcove at the abbey certainly wasn't large enough to hide Gajeel away, even on his own. She wondered briefly if it was even large enough to hide her anymore. It seemed so long ago.

The window seat was also the closest she could get to the lake without breaking her promise to the Headmaster, the gentle song that so concerned him drifting in from the other side of the glass.

"Ain't goin' back home this year," Gajeel muttered, leaning back against the window with arms folded over his chest.

"Why not?"

"My uncle's on assignment for the Ministry. He's gonna be away fer a couple a years. That means it's just me and the old bat, and the less time I spend around her, the better."

"The old bat?"

"My aunt. She's like my ma. Daft and arrogant. She's a Blacksteel, my ma's sister, and the Blacksteels ain't much better than the Redfoxes. My uncle's a Blacksteel too, but he's... well, he's decent, I guess. He's an ass too, but he ain't an evil shit like the rest of my family."

"So you're going to spend your holidays here?"

"Yeah. And then I'll find some way to hide here during the summer break too for the next couple a years. How about you? Not gonna go back and see yer abbess?"

Juvia shook her head. "The Reverend Mother is busy, Juvia imagines. She doesn't need Juvia underfoot for a few weeks."

"Good. Ya can help me find a way to break into the Gryffindor tower. Gotta come up with a good hex to put on that Dragneel idiot's room while he's away."

Juvia rolled her eyes. "That's not happening. Juvia's not spending two weeks in detention during the holidays."

"Pfft. Yer no fun."

She shrugged and returned to stitching together a new teru teru bozu.

He watched her idly for a moment. "Why ya messin' with those still? Ain't that what yer charm's for?"

"There's a potion that Juvia made on Inis Stoirm. Last week, she found the same potion in one of the later chapters of her Potions book. The book has an entirely different way to make the same potion," she replied without looking up from her newest talisman. "She asked Professor Precht about it. He told her that most potions have different recipes to get to the same result."

"Fascinatin'," the boy said drolly. "There a point to that?"

"This is just another recipe," she said as she finished the last stitch of the latest teru teru bozu doll. "There has to be some recipe that'll work." She snipped the straggling thread and leaned back to peer out the window. The inky black waters of the lake greeted her as they did ever morning, no signs of light making it down below the surface. With a weary sigh, she reopened her book and compared her finished product with the one on the page, searching for some defect. Maybe her stitches were too large? Or maybe it needed a different sort of cloth?

"Ya ask me, that little doll's just some Muggle nonsense. Better off with a proper spell."

"Well, Juvia needs to try something," she replied as she fastened this newest attempt to her cloak, just below her amulet and removing the teru teru bozu that had been previously fixed there. She pointed her wand to the old attempt. "_Reverte_." The teru teru bozu doll broke apart, returning it to the pile of cloth and thread it had been crafted from. "Professor Makarov's going to just send her away at some point if she doesn't show any progress." Gajeel snorted and rolled his eyes at the thought. "He's going to think she's a waste of effort. It's a wonder he hasn't cast her out already."

"Doubt that's happening, but if yer worried, I'll work with ya on the charm this break. 'Tween the two of us, we should be able to figure it out... Dammit, Raindrop, what'd I say about hugging me?"

* * *

"_Meteolojinx Recanto_."

The pair watched as the blue light climbed upwards from their perch on one of the courtyard's benches, the gently falling snow slowly burying them. The courtyard, like most the school, was largely empty and quiet. Only a handful of students had remained at Hogwarts for the break, leaving Juvia and Gajeel with largely free reign of the school. Gajeel was less than enthusiastic that they were losing that opportunity to studying but he kept most of the grumbling to a minimum for her sake.

"Eh. I think yer movements are still off a little," Gajeel said as the blue light hit the clouds, the impact not registering at all.

Juvia puffed out her cheeks, glaring at the clouds that still hovered overhead, half hoping that if the charm didn't scare them away, her utter contempt for them would. The clouds, however, seemed unimpressed by either the girl's spell or glare and stayed resolutely where they were. "Juvia isn't going to ever get this spell to work."

"Ya can't say that. Ya figured out the Mending Charm, didn't ya? Just took ya a week or two."

"Juvia's been trying this charm for almost four months now and nothing."

"It's a harder spell, that's all. Still got a week before next term starts. Plenty a time to figure it out. Here, let's see the wand again," he said. She flicked the wand again, just as she had several hundred times before, Gajeel watching every movement. He had her repeat it a few times, studying her and then the book and then her again. "Try not to twist yer wrist so much. Should be more of a downward motion than a swoop." After another few dozen wordless attempts later, Gajeel seemed satisfied with the adjustments. "Okay, give it another go."

Juvia took another deep breath and flicked her wand skyward. "_Meteolojinx Recanto_." The blue light shot upwards once more, but a sliver of blue only poked through the clouds for a second before the storm returned.

"Not a bad attempt, Miss Lockser," a voice like oil on the ear spoke behind her. Juvia cringed, a small shiver running down her spine, before she turned to face Professor Jose. The pointed man smiled at her and Gajeel while Juvia fought the urge to hide behind the taller boy.

"Good afternoon, Professor Jose," Gajeel said, his demeanor immediately changing around the tall, thin professor. Gajeel had little respect or patience for most people, even professors, but Professor Jose proved to be one of the few that managed both from the Redfox boy. It didn't hurt that Defense Against the Dark Arts was one of the few classes that Gajeel ever seemed to look forward to. It also happened to be the class that Juvia dreaded.

"Hello, Mister Redfox. I'm happy to see the two of you aren't sitting idle during the holidays like so many of your classmates. It shows a dedication to your schooling that's very admirable," the professor said with a charm that sounded so hollow to her.

The Slytherin boy straightened, lips twitching up into a smile, while Juvia bit down on her lip, deciding not to mention that it wasn't so much her education she was concerned with.

"You know, if the two of you are really interested in expanding your abilities, I do teach a small group of some of my more gifted and dedicated students after classes. Students who wish to learn more than just the standard curriculum. Are you interested?"

"Yes, sir," came Gajeel's immediate response, not even sparing a glance to Juvia.

The pointed professor smiled down at her. "Miss Lockser?" She looked to Gajeel, to the excitement that she rarely saw outside of Quidditch matches. Heaving a quiet sigh, she nodded. "Wonderful. I'm teaching a session tonight. I look forward to seeing both of you there." With a nod to them, he left the pair.

Gajeel turned to her, grinning ear to ear. "D'ya know what this means, Raindrop? We're gonna be in the Phantom Lords!"

"The Phantom Lords?"

"It's a club that Jose runs. It's been around Hogwarts for centuries. Only the best Defense Against the Dark Arts students are ever invited. The students in it are practically guaranteed t'be Aurors when they get out of Hogwarts. My uncle was even in it when he was at Hogwarts, back when previous old Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was running it. I can be an Auror, just like him!" He beamed at her. She'd never seen him so excited. Not even after a good Quidditch match. "I'll be the first Redfox Auror ever!"

Juvia didn't say anything at first. Part of her just wanted to go along, but after a moment, she said quietly, "Juvia's not so sure about this, Gajeel."

"What's wrong?" he asked, his smile faltering.

Guilt nipped at her for draining his enthusiasm, but she couldn't shake the sinking feeling she had. "She doesn't trust Professor Jose."

"I know he's a little odd, Raindrop, but he's a Hogwarts Professor. And he's an expert in the Defense Against the Dark Arts. We can learn a lot from him."

Juvia frowned and looked away, though she didn't press him further. He leaned towards her, setting an arm on her head and scrunching down her hat. She batted at the arm to shoo it away, not that he paid her any mind. "Don't worry, Raindrop. S'gonna be okay. I ain't gonna let anything or anyone harm ya."

Her shoulders sagged as she muttered under her breath, "It's not Juvia that Juvia's worried about."

* * *

"_Meteolojinx Recanto_."

Juvia watched expectantly as the blue light rocketed skyward, breath lodged in her throat as she waited for the blue patch of sky. Like so many times before, the gray clouds parted just a moment to reveal a fleeting patch of blue, only for the storm to overtake it once more a few seconds later. Her breath rushed out in a heavy sigh as she laid her chin on the windowsill, staring at the stormy sky. The rain, returned to its rightful state now that the chill of February had given way to the warming days of March, drummed a pattern in sync with her disappointment that followed another failed casting.

"Hrm," she heard Professor Makarov hum behind her. "This isn't working."

A whimper escaped her lips before she could suppress it as she whipped around to face the Headmaster. "She-she'll try harder! She will! Please don't give up on her!"

"Hush, my girl, hush. I didn't mean it that way. I mean we're just missing something. Something's wrong with how we're approaching this," the Headmaster said. "Your incantation is fine. So is your wand work. I see nothing in either that should prevent the spell from working, so I'm inclined to think it's the memory. It's not powerful enough to repel the more negative emotions. What are you using as your memory?"

Juvia flushed slightly. "She's using the memory of when she first saw the sky."

Professor Makarov was silent a moment before asking, "Tell me, child, what did you feel when you first saw the sky?"

"She was happy. She never saw anything so beautiful before," she said.

"What else?"

"Sir?"

"Emotions are messy things. Even in happiness, you can still feel other emotions. Sorrow, anger, jealousy. What else did you feel when you saw the sky?"

She paused a moment, replaying the moment in her mind. After a space of silence, she responded, "Fear. Juvia was afraid it'd be taken from her again."

Professor Makarov nodded. "Think it's safe to say that it's the fear that's calling back the storm again. You'll need another memory. Something less complicated."

Juvia frowned. "She doesn't really have any happier memories."

"It doesn't have to be happier. Just less complicated. Surely there's some moment that you can think back to that simply makes you feel better."

Gray's laugh flashed into her mind, bright and clear as the day she first heard it in Ollivander's shop. She closed her eyes and focused on that day in the wand shop. The way he smiled. The way she felt wanted for once. The way her heart seemed to flutter in her chest whenever he looked at her. She clutched her wand closer to her chest as she let the memory replay in her head.

"Good," she heard Professor Makarov say. "Let's give this a try." She opened her eyes, the wand glowing more brightly than it had in previous attempts. "Go on."

Hope rising in her chest and the memory of Gray's laugh still ringing in her ears, she flicked the wand skyward once again. "_Meteolojinx Recanto_." Off the blue light went, climbing up into the stormy heavens. When it disappeared into the dark gray clouds, the sky rippled, like a raindrop hitting the lake's surface. Then the clouds rolled back, repulsed by the light. It all vanished. The storm clouds were gone. Not a trace left behind. As if they'd never been there at all.

"Well done, my girl!" She heard Professor Makarov said behind her.

She couldn't respond. Her wand clattered onto the floor, dropped by her slackened grip. But still the sky stayed, clear and blue. So blue.

"I want you to keep practicing the charm. Anytime you experience strong negative emotions, you might find that the storms return, so you'll need to be prepared to use the charm again in those situations," he continued on.

She scarcely heard him. She whipped around and flew at the Headmaster, wrapping her arms around the man not much taller than she was. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" They were the only words she could think to say then as her tears slipped free.

After an initial pause of shock, the professor patted her on the back. "There, there, my girl. That's what we're here for."

Smiling, Juvia darted back to the window, taking in all the colors she'd been deprived of before then. "Oh," she breathed. "The lake! It's so blue!" It sparkled in the sun, glittering. It had been nothing but a rolling black mass of swells before, but now it sparkled like a sapphire around the castle. "Is the ocean as blue?"

"In some places," he responded after a pause. "In others, even bluer."

She breathed a happy sigh, every color so much more vibrant now. "May Juvia stay here for a moment?" she asked quietly.

"Of course, my child." She heard the smile in his voice without having to see it. "Stay as long as you want."


	9. Chapter 9 - Sunlight at Hogwarts

Author's Note: Well, there goes that weekly cadence in a hurry... Sorry about that. New term started and stuff just got incredibly hectic. Also, I hate this chapter. Legitimately hate. Wish to give it physical form just so that I could set it on fire. It's kind of an awkward chapter. It's the end of Juvia's school year, so there's not much that happens here. Looking forward to writing the next chapter, but this one is just meh. I also need to revise it a fair bit. Some of these sections are just kinda ick and need a rewrite, but it's one of those cases where if I have to look at it again right now, I will scream. So yeah, fair warning, this chapter will be updated later. I'll add a note when I do. Also, woo! First year done! Just six more to go... I did say this was going to be a long story when I started, didn't I?

CHAPTER NINE

Sunlight at Hogwarts

Light creeping into her dorm room woke Juvia the next morning - not the harsh light of a rising sun as the Slytherin dorms were, like the Common Room, jutting out deep beneath the lake's surface, but a gentle light that meandered its way down through the lake's murky water to her window to stir her from her bed. She sat up in her bed and stayed bundled in her blanket as she watched in entranced silence the fish and plants on the other side of the glass, able to see them for the first time as the lake sang out for her.

Nearly half an hour passed in contended silence before the other girls in the dorm stirred awake. If anyone noticed her awake, they made no show of it. They said nothing to her as they got ready for the morning and left the dorm. Minerva Orland was out of the room first, shortly followed by Sorano Angel and Briar Blackthorn. Evergreen Oakleaf stuck around a little longer, but a few minutes later she was gone as well.

When the room was once more left in stillness and silence, Juvia emerged from the safety and comfort of her blankets and readied herself for the day. When she arrived at the Common Room some time later, Gajeel was waiting for her. He nodded a greeting in response to her cherry "Good morning", and the two left the Common Room to head to the Great Hall, taking the path that passed by as many windows as possible, Juvia staring up at the bright blue sky at every opportunity she could.

Even at breakfast, they didn't speak much. Juvia switched between glancing over at the Gryffindor table and browsing over their next chapters of the Defense Against the Dark Arts book, while Gajeel devoured everything in sight, only speaking to tell her to eat something.

Once breakfast was over, the two of them headed towards their classroom. When Juvia turned a corner and spotted the Gryffindor first years walking just ahead, she ducked back around the corner and peered around it cautiously, picking out Gray in the group. He was smirking at something the Loke boy was saying.

"The hell ya doing, Raindrop?" Gajeel asked as he leaned over to peer around the corner as well. "They never teach ya stalking is bad at that abbey of yers?"

"Juvia isn't stalking," she protested. "She's just... observing."

"Observing. Right. Gryffindors? Really?"

"It's not," she paused, finding that the words weren't coming easily. "Juvia's just... he probably hates her."

Gajeel frowned. "Who?"

"Gray."

"The Fullbuster brat?" She nodded. "Did he say something? I can hex his hair or something if he did. He seems like the sort that'd care about his hair."

She shook her head quickly. "No, he didn't. Well, he did, but Juvia wasn't... He told Juvia about the Houses before she was Sorted. He said that Slytherins were evil. And now..."

"Now, yer a Slytherin. Ya think he's going to think the same about you?"

"Juvia doesn't know," she sighed.

"So what if he does?"

"She's worried. He's the one that made the rain go away." He looked at her, once pierced eyebrow arched. "The spell needed a memory. A happy one. Juvia used the one from when she met Gray at Ollivander's."

"Why didn't ya use meeting me?"

"You kicked Juvia," she said with a glare at him.

"Fair enough. So, yer using that memory. What about it?"

"She's worried that if he hates her now, she won't be able to use it again and the rain will return."

"So yer solution is just t'avoid him until ya both leave Hogwarts?"

"Juvia didn't say it made sense."

"Good, 'cause it don't. C'mon, Raindrop, or we'll be late."

"It's just Defense Against the Dark Arts. No need to hurry," she muttered.

"Now, Raindrop," he pushed her gently forward, though he did keep his pace slow to let the Gryffindors go in first. With a sigh, she trudged her way to class.

* * *

It was a wonder how perfectly insignificant something like end of year exams seemed when compared to learning how to quell the storms that had plagued her all her life.

While all of Slytherin seemed in a constant state of panic that week, the Common Room a mess of books and frantic students, Juvia was perfectly calm and collected as she curled close to the window, singing softly with the lake.

Gajeel, for his part, seemed equally unconcerned with the remaining exams. He had panicked briefly over the Potions and Herbology exams, but after a few study sessions with Juvia, he had relaxed considerably. He had taken both that morning and passed easily enough. The only exams remaining were Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms, and neither were concerned with either. Loathe as she was to admit it, Professor Jose's training sessions had improved her skills drastically. Even Professor Gildarts had seemed impressed with her improvement over the year. She still couldn't hold a candle to Gajeel in either subject, but she still managed to be among the best students in either subject. The exams were just formalities now.

Trying to escape the chaos and tension of their House, the pair had retreated to their usual spot that afternoon, safe and secure behind the great tapestry.

"Quidditch equipment shed?" Gajeel muttered as he leaned back against the glass, arms folded over his chest and scowl set deep on his face.

"Juvia thinks Mister Erigor, at the very least, would notice. She's pretty sure that there's not a place in Hogwarts that you can hide that they won't check. She thinks you're going to have to go home for the summer."

"You don't understand, Raindrop!" he groaned, arms thrown into the air as he straightened, pulling away from the window. "It's just going to be me and her. For the entire summer. She's going to keep me locked up in that rotting mausoleum the entire time. I'll go mad before fall hits."

"Juvia would offer to let you stay with her at the abbey, but she's fairly certain that the Sisters would notice," Juvia said with a sympathetic smile at the boy before turning back to the lake, peering out into the murky green water beyond the glass. She couldn't see very far into the lake, the water too cloudy to see much beyond the pane, but every so often, she though she glimpsed something large swimming in the shallows. Juvia frowned and pressed up closer to the glass, squinting to better see, but all she saw was the green lake beyond.

They stayed in silence for a few moments, Juvia's focus on the lake and Gajeel's focus on the ceiling above. After a few minutes of quiet between them, the boy finally sighed. "Forget it, I'll just hide under the bed."

"We do check there, Mister Redfox," came the droll response from Professor Precht as he pulled back the tapestry.

Gajeel yelped at the sudden appearance as he jumped up in the seat, earning a smirk from Juvia. The boy shot a glare at her. "Not a word, Raindrop."

"Juvia wasn't going to say a thing," she replied sweetly with as innocent a smile she could muster.

"Miss Lockser, the Headmaster wants a word. I assume you know the way." Juvia nodded. "Very good. Mind that you don't dawdle," he said before letting the tapestry fall back into place.

When the professor was gone, as far as they could tell at any rate, Gajeel leaned in and asked in a hushed tone. "What do ya think he wants?"

Juvia shook her head. "Juvia doesn't know. He hasn't sent for her in months, and she can't think of anything she's done to warrant calling her now," she replied with a frown. "She best get going. She'll see you later, Gajeel." The boy nodded at her, and she scrambled out from the window seat and its protective tapestry. She made her way carefully through the Common Room, dodging an errant charm that ricocheted off an imposing grandfather clock and picking her way past of pile of textbooks in the center of the room that seemed to be just begging for one good spark to start a decent bonfire, a spark that Juvia was fairly certain Gajeel would supply before she returned.

Once free from the chaos of the Common Room, she headed up the stairs out of the dungeon, her nerves a mix of apprehension and anticipation. Since the day she finally cleared the sky, she hadn't been called once to the Headmaster's office. Part of her rather regretted that. She was fond of the diminutive Headmaster. He'd always sit with her for a bit after every lesson, trying to cheer her up after each failure and keep her mind off of the rain that pounded against the tower. He'd ask after how she was doing, what sort of spells she was learning, what her favorite subjects were. It was nice. Almost familial, not that she really had any experience with families, but she imagined that's what it'd be like. She sometimes wished she could stop by for a cup of tea and a chat, particularly when the other girls were being nastier than normal or when she was frustrated with a spell that just wouldn't work, but it wasn't fair of her to monopolize his time. He had enough to worry about other than her. He had done more for her than almost anyone. She hadn't right to expect more.

She headed up the stairs she knew so well and paused before the gargoyle statue. "Butterbeer bubblegum," she said, and the gargoyle shifted to reveal the stairwell as it had so many times before. When she reached the door, she heard voices. Feeling uneasy, she knocked.

"Come in, Miss Lockser," came the familiar cheery voice of Professor Makarov.

When she entered, she was greeted to the sight of Professor Makarov seated at his desk with a woman seated across from him. The woman stood when Juvia entered and smiled at her, a gentle smile but stiff, as though she were out of practice. "Hello, dear. I'm Mary Wickham. I'm an old friend of your abbess'."

Juvia tilted her head, studying the face that looked down at her. "Juvia remembers you. She saw you at the abbey once."

"Huh. Thought I was more discreet than that," the woman muttered. "Well, no matter. I work for the Ministry of Magic, Juvia. I've been assigned to your case for some years now. Here, come sit down," she said, motioning to a chair beside her where a cup of tea waited for her.

Juvia pushed down the wave of paranoia that rose in her the moment the Ministry was mentioned. She didn't know what the Ministry wanted with her now. She had stopped the storms. Wasn't that enough? Why did it care any further about her? She took a deep, steadying breath as she sat in the chair.

"How have end of year exams been treating you so far?" the woman asked as she took her own seat again.

"Fine," Juvia replied simply, turning her attention to the cup before her.

"That's good. I was always a wreck this time of year," the woman said cheerfully.

"That might have had a something to do with the fact most of your books were never even opened until the week before exams," Makarov replied with a roll of his eyes.

"Details."

"Is Juvia in some sort of trouble?" she asked quietly.

The woman turned to her, her smile faltering slightly. "Of course not, Juvia. I apologize. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I'm here to discuss your living arrangements."

Juvia frowned. "Her living arrangements?"

"Yes. You see, when you were a child, the decision was made not to move you to St. Rowena's. It's the orphanage that most wizard children are sent to, but it was ill suited to care for you and your condition, particularly at the time. So, you were left in Josie's care on Inis Stoirm. Now, however, times have changed a bit. St. Rowena's has largely recovered from the last war, and you've progressed enough that there's less concern about having to keep you isolated. If you would like to, we can move you to St. Rowena's rather than have you return back to Inis Stoirm. What do you say?"

Juvia didn't speak for a few minutes. She thought of Inis Stoirm, cold and unfriendly. She thought of the welcome that she was likely to get from the village and the abbey when she returned there. She had a chance to avoid ever having to go back. To make a home instead among other wizards. Other wizards who wouldn't see her as a demon sent to plague them. And yet, she had met more than enough wizards who despised her for what she was and what she wasn't already. Would St. Rowena's really be all that different? And Inis Stoirm. She thought of never going back. Never seeing it again. The thought didn't fill her with relief as she once thought it would. She almost... missed it? The feeling was odd. Contradictory. But unmistakable. She wanted to go back. She wanted to return to Inis Stoirm. It was home. Wasn't it?

She shook her head. "Juvia wants to go back to Inis Stoirm, if that's okay."

The smile on the Ministry woman's face relaxed slightly. "Of course, if that's what you want. We won't move you someplace you don't feel comfortable at." She turned to the Headmaster. "The Ministry will take over her transfers to and from the island."

Professor Makarov shook his head. "That won't be necessary, Mrs. Wickham. She is a Hogwarts student. We will see to her safety. Professor Jose has volunteered his services in getting her to and from Hogwarts."

"Surely Professor Jose has more pressing calls for his time than escorting a child to and from Hogwarts."

"There is no more pressing concern for a professor at Hogwarts than the care and protection of its students."

"Commendable, but still, the Ministry is more than willing to take ownership of that concern."

"We're grateful, but Professor Jose will manage this."

Juvia listened to the two, arguing in the politest way she'd ever seen. If it had been Gajeel and Dragneel, wands would have been drawn long before now. Neither, however, thought to ask her what she wanted. She supposed she should have felt flattered that everyone was so keen to see to her safety, but really she just felt like an item being tossed around. She laid her head down on the desk as she watched the two spar. Eventually, Professor Makarov won out, much to Juvia's chagrin. As much as she wasn't happy with the idea of being shepherded from one location to another by a complete stranger from the Ministry of Magic, she was less thrilled to have Professor Jose be the one to escort her instead.

"The Minister won't be pleased, Professor Makarov," the woman warned.

"Doma's never been pleased with me or Hogwarts in general," Makarov replied with a shrug.

"True enough," the woman said. She turned to Juvia, then. "Now, Juvia, there are a few rules that you'll need to be aware of while living on Inis Stoirm. They're very important, so listen close. The first is no magic once you leave Hogwarts. This goes for all students. Do you understand?"

A small seed of panic took root in Juvia's heart. "But, what if the storms return while she's back at Inis Storm?" she asked, her hand instinctively reaching for her teru teru bozu only to clutch her amulet instead. She hadn't crafted another teru teru bozu since the charm worked, something she now desperately regretted.

"You'll need to wait until you get back to Hogwarts, I'm afraid," the woman said with a small frown.

"Don't worry, my girl," Professor Makarov piped up from the other side of the desk. "Your storms may not return now that you've had more training. Jose tells me you're progressing very well. The more control you learn, the less your emotions will impact the world around you. And if they do, Hogwarts will be here to help send them away again when you return." He gave her a warm smile that Juvia could only weakly return. At the thought of just a summer without the sun, the seed of panic sprouted, twining around her heart and constricting.

"Next rule," Mrs. Wickham continued, "keep all your supplies well out of sight from the others in the abbey. Bit hard with communal living, I know, but Josie's been doing quite well keeping her activities quiet, so she should have a few places for you to stash your books and supplies until the new term." Juvia nodded, opting not to mention that the Reverend Mother wasn't as good at hiding as Mrs. Wickham seemed to think - the other girls had more than once found oddities belong to the Reverend Mother. They just never knew what they were. Juvia, however, was more than well versed in how to hide either herself or other items away from the prying eyes of the Sisters and girls. She could manage to do the same with her supplies, she imagined.

"Next, no owls to the abbey, I'm afraid. Since Inis Stoirm doesn't have owls naturally, the Ministry doesn't want to draw attention by having owls flying in and out of the island. Any post you receive will need to be through Muggle means." Juvia nodded again. The only one who would be likely to send her anything would be Gajeel, and she couldn't imagine he'd be eager to write her, no matter the method.

"And finally, no leaving the island." Another nod. It wasn't as if there was anywhere else for her to go. "Good. Well, I'll take my leave, then." She smiled once more at the girl. "Good luck to you in your remaining end of year exams, Juvia. I look forward to seeing you at St. Brigid's."

"Good bye, Mrs. Wickham," the girl replied politely.

With a nod to Professor Makarov, the woman left the pair, heading back down the stairwell.

When her footsteps could no longer be heard, Juvia turned back to Professor Makarov. "Sir? Is it really necessary for Professor Jose to escort Juvia to and from Inis Stoirm?"

He regarded her curiously. "You're only eleven, my dear. Even among wizards, that's a little young for you to be wandering around London alone."

"Couldn't Professor Precht take her instead?"

"Professor Precht is a little old to be traveling about. Why? What concern do you have about Professor Jose?"

Juvia stared down at her tea. "Nothing."

When she looked back up at Professor Makarov, he was watching her. Frowning. But he didn't press her on it. After a moment, he smiled at her and reached out to pour her another cup of tea. "Now, then, on to more pleasant topics. Catch me up on the last couple of months."

* * *

Juvia's first year at Hogwarts ended much the way it had begun.

Well, almost.

The Hogwarts Express hurtled through the countryside, the sun shining brilliantly over the land. Every color gleamed and dazzled her as she watched entranced. Such a difference from the dreary gray landscape that took her to Hogwarts.

Otherwise, though, the trip was much the same. The compartment contained only her and Gajeel, as much a pariah leaving school as she was when she arrived. Gajeel was still sulking, his plan to hide away in one of the school's many cupboards foiled by Caretaker Macao, and spoke nothing at all for most the trip. Juvia, for her part, was too taken with the land on the other side of the window to prod him into any sort of conversation.

Juvia only turned from the window when the wild beauty of the country began to give way to more and more little towns, a prelude to the approach into London. She shifted back into her seat, less than eager for the train to carry her into that terrible mess of noise and crowds. She turned back to her sulking friend, then. "Will you write to Juvia over the break?"

Gajeel's face contorted into a grimace. "Can't ya just use the Floo network?"

Juvia shook her head. "The abbey isn't connected to the Floo network."

"Raindrop, ya really need to get off that island," he muttered.

She rolled her eyes but ignored the comment. "Will you write to Juvia? She's not likely to have many people to talk to on Inis Stoirm. She's going to be bored."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered as he turned towards the window. "Just don't expect any novels from me, got it?"

Juvia smiled back at him and let the compartment fall silent again. The two said nothing further until the train pulled into Platform 9 3/4. They left the compartment, Gajeel pushing a path through the carriage and Juvia following close behind him. They stepped onto the platform, greeted by a mass of families and students. They hadn't gone far onto the platform before the boy tensed. Juvia followed his gaze to a sour faced woman with gray hair tightly bound in a bun. She was glaring in their direction, her thin lips pursed.

The boy grunted. "Well, there's my aunt. Need to go."

"Should Juvia say hello?"

"Oh hell no," he replied quickly. "Believe me, ya'll live a much happier and healthier life the longer she doesn't know ya exist. I'll see ya in the fall, Raindrop."

"Bye, Gajeel," she said quietly, restraining herself from hugging him goodbye. He didn't respond, but he did reach out to tousle her hair before he stalked off towards the dour woman.

When the boy and his aunt were lost among the shuffling crowds, Juvia started to look around for Professor Jose. Her gaze, however, seemed drawn to some other figure in the crowd.

It was funny.

No matter where she was. No matter what she was doing. She could always find him. Even when she wasn't trying to.

A smile crept onto her face as she watched Gray talking excitedly with a tall man that could only be his father, given the similarities between the two.

"Miss Lockser." With a wince, she turned to face the approaching Professor Jose. The professor smiled at her, something he was more prone to do since she joined the Phantom Lords. She wished he wouldn't. She preferred his scowls to his smiles. They seemed more genuine. "Come now. Let's go." He motioned her to follow. After one last glance at Gray, she followed after the professor, taking comfort that in a few months, she'd be right here again.

She just had to make it through the summer.


	10. Chapter 10 - Return of the Rain Witch

Author's Note: Dear Juvia, I'm sorry I enjoy writing chapters where you're unhappy better than ones where you're happy. Sincerely, me. Might be going to a bi-weekly cadence for a bit. Want to do more revisions on these.

CHAPTER TEN

Return of the Rain Witch

The day she returned to Inis Stoirm, it rained.

Of course it did.

It wasn't because of her. It wasn't! It wasn't as though the island was named Inis Stoirm by accident. Storms were a way of life on Inis Stoirm and had been long before she'd ever set foot on its shore.

But it didn't matter.

Juvia stepped onto the docks, rain pattering against her pink parasol, and she felt eyes immediately on her. She saw them, the villagers. Saw their faces. Saw the fear, the anger, the despair. Saw the hate. Professor Jose led her back through the village towards the abbey while she tried to ignore the stares, the whispers, the accusations, but it was a lost cause.

Long familiar feelings smoldered in her, festering like a reopened wound. It all came back. The anger. The resentment. The isolation.

Overhead, the storm shifted and changed, and she knew it was hers once again.

The little rain witch and her oldest friend.

* * *

Juvia was running out of ideas.

Apparently, in her absence, some of the other girls had found a number of her hiding spaces and taken them for their own. She had a near miss with one of her textbooks stashed in her favorite alcove the previous night. Eithne had found the textbook while stowing away some letters of her own, but fortunately, it had only been her Herbology textbook. Juvia had managed to sell it as nothing more than a boring botany book, and the other wards quickly lost interest. Now, however, she needed a new hiding space for it and all her other books.

The obvious choice, of course, was the abbess' study, but the Reverend Mother had taken ill as of late, confined largely to the infirmary. Sister Paul had taken over duties for the abbess and was in and out of the abbess' study all day long. Juvia could scarcely keep her supplies there. She even had to sneak into the study and pinch the abbess' wand one morning shortly after her return to Inis Storim before Sister Paul came across it. The wands, the abbess' and her own, she kept on her at all times, but she still needed a place to stow her books, and the abbey wasn't helping her any. All the spots she knew of ran too many risks of being seen. She'd have to find someplace outside the abbey walls.

Bundling up her Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts books into her little bag and shouldering the pack, she left the confines of the abbey, the rain pattering a steady beat against her parasol, and weighed her options. She started by looking down the path that wound its way to the village below.

Well, that was out.

While there was sure to be a couple of dozen abandoned homes and stores that would serve as a decent bolthole, the last thing she needed was to have someone from the village come across her Charms textbook. She didn't know if witches were burnt at stakes nowadays, but she was in no hurry to find out.

There was the beach below, she supposed. There were a number of rocks the tide never touched that she could squirrel away a book or two. And as much of the Sisters disliked the climb and wouldn't bother to go down the stairs, she could be reasonably sure that the books would be safe from their prying eyes.

She peered over the edge of the bluff and scowled. That was no good either.

It seemed the other girls had taken over the beach for themselves in her absence. She could see littered bits of plastic and glass along with a forgotten basket wedged beneath some rocks on the beach.

_Her_ beach.

The rain pelted hard against her umbrella.

Swallowing her growing irritation, she rounded the abbey until she looked out towards the west, to the fields that extended out around the abbey. From the little time she spent there with the abbess gathering potion reagents, she knew the fields to be nothing more than grass and flowers. What few fences might have served as potential hiding spots were often patrolled by farmers seeking to keep their sheep from going astray. Anything she hid there would be soon discovered.

Beginning to feel the situation as rather hopeless, she rounded the abbey again until she was facing north and a faded path winding its way further up the bluff.

That was strange.

In all her years at the abbey, she'd never taken that path before. Not with the abbess or during her rare solo excursions out of the abbey. She couldn't even properly recall having seen the path before, but she supposed she must have. It had obviously been there for a while.

No other palatable options left to her, she started down the path.

Inis Stoirm was not a large island. Just a few miles one way and a few the other with the abbey of St. Brigid's on its eastern point and the little village of Baile Stoirm to the south. And yet the path never seemed to end. Switchback trails carried her further up the bluffs and then around a mass of crags that climbed out the center of the island, blocking the abbey and village off from view.

An hour into her climb, the air seemed to change. It grew frigid around her, her breath escaping in little clouds, and the bluff ahead was shrouded in a rolling fog. Shivering in the chilled air, she pulled her coat tighter to her and continued on.

A few minutes more, Juvia encountered the first signs of a structure. Or where once a structure stood. Stone fences, now crumbling under the weight of neglect and time, seemed to have been guarding a large empty field. An old farm, perhaps? But she couldn't see a farmhouse or remnants of one, not that she could see much through the mist that swirled out on the bluff. There was nothing here but the crumbling fences and the cawing of ravens whose forms she could barely make out in the mist perched along the bits of crumbling fences.

The road ended as abruptly as it began, right at a pair of stone columns, one still standing while the other had toppled onto the ground. On the one still standing, she spied a plaque, a plaque that bore a family crest. The crest was an ornate sort of thing, as most crests were but was well worn by the same passage of time that had felled the column beside it. The shield she couldn't quite make out, but it was supported on each side by what looked to be a hippocampus. A raven, the clearest image remaining, sat as its crest, its wings outstretched. A motto had been etched below the shield, but all she could read of the motto now were the words _maris_ and _patria_.

The funny thing was, as faded and incomplete as the crest was, it was familiar. She had seen it before. Hadn't she? Maybe one of the abbey's old books? Surely someone would have written down something about what stood here before. And yet, she was sure she had seen it recently.

Her fingertips had barely grazed the plaque before she drew her hand back again, a shiver running down the length of her spine.

She shouldn't be here.

It was all wrong. This place.

She shouldn't be here.

Her feet moved long before the thoughts could form in her head. She let them take her back down the worn, winding path, but she paused only a few moments later at a marker at the bluff's edge. She approached the bluff and peered down at a beach, far larger than her own below the abbey but no less protected by the steep cliff faces that shielded it from sight. The marker itself stood at the start of a series of steps carved into the bluffs, but unlike the steps at the abbey which were a mismatch of size and shape — a constant threat of a tumble always one misstep away — the steps carved here were clearly well-planned and executed with a sturdy railing framing the entire pathway down.

Glancing around once, half expecting some irate farmer to come charging up the bluff to demand she get away from his land, she started down the steps. More than once, Juvia had to pause in her descent to bite down the wave of panic that hit her. The bluff at the abbey was only a fraction of the height here. The cliffs here towered out of the sea and, rail or no, scaling down them surfaced more than a few fears.

She let out a sigh of relief as her feet sank down into beach sand rather than hitting the hard steps. There was no sign of any human visitors to the beach. No footprints. No tools. Even the steps, proof enough that people were here at one point, were overrun by weeds and vines, left to neglect much as the fences had been, though they seemed to have weathered the weight of time better.

Pushing thoughts aside for the present, she focused on the far more pressing matter. She started looking for spots she could use as a cache. There were a few decent spots that seemed far enough back to keep anything she hid safe from the tide that rolled in and out, but one decent storm brought on by a fight with Eithne or an argument with Sister Paul and she'd be left with waterlogged books and rusted cauldrons. Heaving a sigh, she searched on, looking for anything. A nice hollow in the wall. A good outcropping of rocks. A…

Well, that'd work.

She paused before a little fissure in the bluff, an opening small and concealed that she could hardly see until she was right on it. Eyeing the opening cautiously, rather waiting for the whole thing to come crashing down as she crossed the threshold — that was the standard course of things for little rain witches — she picked her way through the opening only for it to widen out into a large cavern comprised of a single chamber.

The cavern was an odd thing, a mix of wild and civilized natures. It had the natural bits that one would expect to see in a cave. There were stalagmites on the ground and stalactites from the roof, and a little lagoon that formed in the back of the cave. There were even a number of bats that she could see roosting from the roof, Juvia briefly debating squirreling away a couple in her trunk when it came time to return to Hogwarts to hide them in Minerva's things.

There were, however, a number of oddities that had no business being in a damp little cave on a beach. For instance, a small table and chair had been set towards the back of the chamber with a fireplace positioned next to it, not that it had a flue that she could see. There were also torches lining the walls all around the chamber, positioned every meter or so. As she approached each, they crackled alive, casting flickering shadows and making monsters' claws of the stalagmites around them. Further back, beside the table and chair, a number of shelves had been mounted, each holding a number of books and most seemed to be textbooks like hers. One shelf held a number of potion texts. Another, some books on Charms. Herbology books were set on a shelf that rested over a little planter whose occupants out have withered and died years ago.

She paused before a shelf with what seemed to be Defense Against the Dark Art texts and pulled one, _Advanced Counterspells and Counter-jinxes_, from the shelf. It wasn't one of the texts that she had seen used in Hogwarts, and Professor Jose had them reading all sorts of texts for the Phantom Lords. The book itself seemed rather old, its pages faded and yellowed, and the binding well cut and frayed. Some of the books further back on the shelf seemed far older still, nearly set to crumble to dust if she touched them.

She returned the book to its place. Fetching her own Defense Against the Dark Arts text from her pack, she paused before the shelf, debating if she could add her own to the shelf as it seemed well-laden as it was.

_Click, click, click._

Juvia turned to look to the source of the sound, a few inches away from the shelf. A peg that she knew certainly wasn't there a moment ago now waited level with the shelf, holding on to nothing but air. She cautiously reached for it only to just miss the shelf as it whizzed by, extending out until it passed the newly added peg. Now left with plenty of room for her own text, Juvia set the textbook onto the shelf.

"Ummm… thank you?" she said quietly, waiting for some house elf or other creature to appear and take credit for the deed, but no such creature appeared. After a moment's pause to be certain she was still quite alone, she pulled out her Charms text next and attempted to add it to the newly extended shelf. As soon as she had set it on the shelf, though, the book shot straight out again, knocked away by some unseen hand. Juvia let out a little shriek and ducked down while the textbook flew by overhead. It landed behind her with a thud, echoed by another clanking sound elsewhere in the cave. She turned to see the shelf that had contained the other Charms textbooks had extended to open new space of her textbook.

"Well, fine," Juvia muttered, fetching the book from the ground. She set the Charms textbook onto the newly extended shelf, ready to dodge another flying textbook that never came. The book rested comfortably on the shelf.

She moved on to the Potions textbooks and pulled down the one that looked the least beaten by time and exposure. She flipped through the pages of the book, taking care not to jostle the book more than necessary, but she found no markings inside. No name on the cover. No notes in the margins. It looked just as if it had been taken straight from a store to be stashed away in this damp cave on a little island in the middle of nowhere. She checked a few other books, but all were the same. Nothing offered any clues as to who had built this little witch's den.

Maybe the abbess would know.

* * *

"Thank you, dear," the Reverend Mother said as Juvia handed the abbess' wand back to her. "I forgot to lock it away after I made that last batch of potions. Glad that Sister Paul didn't come across it before you spirited it away. I hate having to wipe her memory. Gets rather messy after a while." The abbess returned the wand to its case and locked the case with the key she wore around her neck. "I am sorry, little one, that I did not greet you properly when you returned."

"Juvia understands. You've been ill," the girl replied as she helped the abbess back to her chair, the older woman struggling for breath at the slight exertion of energy. Once the Reverend Mother had been returned safely to her chair, Juvia busied herself with pouring the tea brought to them by Sister Adele for the abbess and herself.

"The dangers of getting old, my dear. I suppose its the climate. It just doesn't suit me as it used to."

Juvia winced, pangs of guilt joining all the other festering emotions that added to the storm. "Juvia's sorry. Her rain —"

"Isn't what made me ill. I caught a chill weeks before you returned. Inis Stoirm has never been a favorable place for those with weak constitutions. Now, enough of that. Tell me, how have you found Hogwarts? Are you enjoying it?"

"Very much so, Reverend Mother."

"That's good. What's your favorite class so far?"

"Potions, though she also likes Herbology and History of Magic."

"Oh Lord, you'll be the first person to ever say that with a straight face, I wager. Never known anyone able to get through a full year of History of Magic without falling asleep in class at least once. Hopefully your professor is more entertaining than mine was."

"Professor Jura is very interesting."

"And how about Professor Precht?"

"Juvia likes him. Some of the other students are rather afraid of him, but Juvia thinks he's fair."

The abbess smiled. "Yes, he can be rather daunting, but there's very few people that know more of magic than Professor Precht. Have you met Professor Makarov at all?"

"Yes," Juvia nodded. "He taught Juvia how to get rid of her storms. Not that you can tell now," the girl muttered.

"Peace, my dear. The rain will be gone soon enough," the abbess said as she patted the girl's hand.

"Can't Juvia just use her spell?" she asked, looking hopefully to the Reverend Mother.

The elderly woman shook her head. "I'm sorry, dear. No spells outside of Hogwarts."

Juvia looked down to her tea, letting the warmth of the cup chase away the chill of the rain, something it did very poorly. "Reverend Mother? Have there been other wizards on Inis Stoirm before?"

"Possibly," the woman replied. "There are the previous abbesses, of course. The abbess of St. Brigid's is always a witch."

Juvia frowned. "All of them? Why?"

The Reverend Mother shrugged. "Tradition, I suppose. It's why most things that don't make sense are still done. It's just the way it's always been."

"But why Inis Stoirm?"

"I couldn't say. I'm sure there was some perfectly reasonable explanation for it at one point, but if there was, none of my predecessors saw fit to write it down. Why the interest in other wizards on Inis Stoirm?"

Juvia paused a moment before proceeding, not sure she wanted to give her away her hiding spot. "Juvia found a cave on a beach to the north. It looks like someone had been studying there. There are textbooks. Some look very old. And torches that light on their own. And shelves that expand when they need to."

The abbess frowned. "What beach is this?"

"It's just off the path north of the abbey. There's a stairway that goes down the northern bluffs."

The abbess appeared thoughtful a moment. "Well, I suppose one of the previous abbess' might have had a witch or two at St. Brigid's. My predecessor never mentioned any such cave, though. Still, it may be useful to you. I dare say you'll be safer there than closer to the abbey. Just be cautious when you're around there," she said as she poured herself another cup, the pot trembling slightly under her unsteady grip, "particularly with the steps. She damn near broke her neck going down them after a storm."

Juvia stared at the woman whose focus had shifted entirely to keeping her pot from spilling everywhere. "Who, Reverend Mother?"

The abbess returned the pot to the desk and looked at Juvia quizzically. "Who, dear?"

"You said she nearly broke her neck going down the steps. Who's she?"

The abbess frowned, her brow furrowed. "Did I now? Oh, don't pay me much mind, dear. My memory, I fear, is not what it once was. I must have been thinking of Sister Adele. She nearly slipped last month trying to fetch little Erin from the beach for her lessons."

Juvia didn't press the abbess further. She merely drank her tea and wondered what other secrets Inis Storim still hid.

* * *

The trouble with her cavernous hideaway was that the sea was never far away. Studying was damn near impossible with the sea singing out for her all the while. She started every day dutifully pouring over her texts, but eventually she would be lured out to sit by the beach for the remainder of the day. Professor Jose wouldn't be pleased. He had been insistent that she and Gajeel were to continue with their studies over the break, but she couldn't deny the sea.

Nearly a month after her return to Inis Stoirm, she was once more on the beach, her parasol sheltering her from the gently pattering rain while the tide lapped at her bare feet. So lost in her song, she never noticed that she was no longer alone.

"Don't you ever catch a chill sitting in the rain?"

Juvia tensed at the voice that was most decidedly not the abbess nor any of the Sisters of St. Brigid's. She turned cautiously towards a dark-haired man standing behind her, a black umbrella in his hand. Pale skin, dark eyes and black clothes, he looked rather like a specter or a vampire. She shrank down.

"Not the most talkative child, are you?" There was no reproach in his voice nor malice in his manner. He merely smiled at her. Soft. Sad. Small. It mirrored his eyes. She relaxed slightly.

"Juvia doesn't have many people to talk to," she replied.

"And yet you have an entire village and abbey of people to speak with."

"They do not want to speak to Juvia," she replied, not bothering to mask the bitterness in her voice. "Juvia does not want to speak to them."

"For the best, really," he said as he took a seat beside her on the beach. "Muggles never say anything worth hearing."

"Are you a wizard?"

"I am. Are you a witch?"

"Juvia is. Are you here to see the abbess?"

He shook his head. "No. I'm here to see the witch who calls the storms."

"Why?" She asked with a frown.

"I've acquaintances among the Ministry. They've taken an interest in you. They want my opinion."

Juvia, whose tension returned the moment the Ministry was mentioned, regarded the man with curiosity nonetheless. "And? What opinion did you form of Juvia?"

He chuckled. "I've scarcely met you. How can I have an opinion? Will you allow me to sit with you for a while to form one?"

"If you like," she replied. "Juvia is not very interesting company, though."

"Ah, ah." He wagged a finger at her. "Let me make the opinion, if it's all the same to you. No sense in you doing my job for me."

In spite of herself, a smile crept onto her face. "What's your name?"

"You can call me Tristan, if you like."

"Is that your real name?"

"No, but I liked it once. I would not mind hearing it again." He watched her intently a moment, Juvia squirming slightly under his stare. But unlike Professor Jose who seemed to be picking apart his faults when he stared at her, Tristan seemed to be searching for something when he looked her. Something he didn't seem to find. His smiled faded, his eyes full of remorse or pity. She couldn't tell which. "Do you not get lonely here? Sitting alone? Would you not have been happier at St. Rowena's? Among your own kind?"

Juvia couldn't contain the scoff that escaped at the thought. "If not for Gajeel, Juvia would have been lonelier at Hogwarts than she is at Inis Stoirm, even among her own kind. The Slytherins want nothing to do with her because she's a mud… Muggle-born. The other Houses want nothing to do with her because she's a Slytherin. At least Muggles have the excuse of ignorance. If they understood, they'd lose their fear, the abbess says."

Tristan's almost kind demeanor contorted in an instant, becoming cold and severe, jaw clenched and dark eyes gleaming with resentment and anger. "Muggles won't ever understand," he nearly spat, every word short and harsh. "They aren't capable of understanding." Then the anger passed as quickly as it came, replaced by the sadness and regret. "I had a younger brother once. He was killed by Muggles who could not understand."

_Drown the bitch_. The red face of the fishmonger flashed across her mind. She shivered.

"They aren't capable of understanding," he repeated, without the same venom as before.

"Juvia's sorry about your brother."

He turned to her and smiled. Sad. Soft. Small. "I'm sorry, too."

The pair went quiet, watching the sea that rolled in and out. At length, when the sky began to darken with the setting of a sun they couldn't see, he stood again. "Well, little Lockser, I think I'll take my leave for the day."

"Have you an opinion of Juvia yet?"

"Not yet. Would you mind if I came out tomorrow to learn more?"

She shook her head no.

"Very well. Until tomorrow, little Lockser," he said, ruffling her hair. With a smallpop, he apparated away, leaving her alone to the singing sea.

She pulled her knees up to her chest and returned to her song.

* * *

For the next few weeks, Tristan appeared on the beach, taking a seat next to her. Sometimes she'd talk about Hogwarts or about the island or about the people she'd met at school. Sometimes he'd do all the talking. He'd talk about places he'd seen or monsters he'd encounter. Sometimes, he'd talk about his late wife. Juvia didn't like when he did. It always made him sad, but still, he spoke about her often. He said Juvia reminded him of her.

About a month before she was to return to school, she and Tristan were once more on the beach, Juvia's knees tucked into her chest and head resting on them while she stared out into the rolling sea. Tristan leaned back onto the beach, staring up at the sky that raged at the island, retaliation for Grainne throwing her latest teru teru bozu doll into the dormitory fire. Juvia seethed and the storms raged. The little rain witch and her oldest friend.

"Why don't you send it away?" Tristan asked from beside her. She glanced over at him, and he gestured with a wave of his hand up at the weeping sky. "I had heard from my Ministry acquaintances that you had learned how to."

"Juvia's not supposed to use magic outside of Hogwarts."

"Tch," he scoffed. "They don't keep that close an eye out. And you're with the abbess of St. Brigid's. Everyone knows she supplies half of the potions to all the hospitals in the Isles. Any magic done would just be attributed to her. What spell do you use to get rid of the storms?"

"_Meteolojinx Recanto_."

"Well, that won't do," he said, sitting back up. "Far too flashy a spell. That _would_ get you noticed." He appeared thoughtful a moment. "Besides, it's the wrong spell."

"The wrong spell?"

"It's treating the symptom of your problem. Not the root of it. Your emotions."

"How does Juvia treat her emotions?" She asked with a frown.

"We get rid of your negative emotions. No negative emotions, no storms."

"And how is Juvia meant to do that? She's tried not being angry or sad or jealous, but that's not easy."

"Of course it's not. I wouldn't expect it to be easy for anyone, least of all a child. It's not about avoiding having them. It's about removing them when you do. We just need to pull it out of you. Would you like me to show you how?"

The rain went cold and hard as Juvia thought it over. After a moment, she nodded.

"Great," Tristan smiled, no longer sad and soft and small. There was something in the smile that unsettled her. It wasn't like Jose's smile, conniving and predatory, but there was something strangely triumphant in it. "Have you ever heard of a memory extraction spell?" She shook her head no. "It is a spell that some use to store duplicate memories to be relived or even shown to others at a later point, but it can also be used to completely remove unwanted memories as well. I know a spell that's a variation of that to extract unwanted emotions. The first thing we need is something to store your emotions in. It can be anything really."

Juvia reached into her blue woolen coat and fished out one of her older teru teru bozus. She held it out to Tristan who eyed the item critically before frowning and shaking his head.

"No. Never a good idea to use something easily destroyed with a spell like this. How about that?" He pointed at the amulet around her neck. "Keeps your emotions close to you in case you need to retrieve it at some point."

Juvia clutched her amulet reflexively before nodding slowly.

"Good. Now, the idea here is you're going to transfer you emotions from you to your amulet using your wand. There's no incantation. No potion. You simply need the will to do it. Take your wand and point it at your heart."

Juvia pulled her wand from her robes and did as she was told.

"Good. Now, I want you to focus on the emotions you want to remove. Focus on one for right now. Don't try to take more or you may pass out from this. Focus on one that you can feel strongly.

Juvia closed her eyes. She knew which to focus on. She still felt the burning embers of anger from earlier that day. The storm turned violent, rain whipping at them, wind slicing, thunder calling out. The little rain witch and her oldest friend.

"Good." She scarcely heard Tristan over the roar. "Give your emotion a form in your mind. See it before you. Take it in your hand."

She saw her anger, bright and red, before her. She twisted it. Gave it a form, or tried to anyways. It ended up nothing more than a bright red ball, blazing, shifting, fighting the constraints she'd made for it. Straining to break free. She reached out for it. Imagined taking hold of it, but imagined or not, it scorched her as she touched it. She cried out and withdrew.

"You have to hold onto it. It'll hurt, but this spell requires will. You need to be determined enough to hold on to it," she heard Tristan, his voice calm. Even.

She reached for it once more, allowing only a whimper to break free as the ball burned.

"Do you have it?"

A nod was all she could manage in reply.

"Alright. Now pull it away from where it is now. Best pull it quickly. This part won't feel much better. Best not to dwell on it. If you do, you'll just lose it. Rip it out."

After taking one long breath to prepare herself, she pulled. There was no throttling back the scream that rushed past her lips. She felt every tear, each seam of her heart sever as it broke open, like splinters of a board torn apart as the whole was broken. Each new tear brought a wave of nausea and pain that threatened to send her back to the dark that swallowed her when the lake nearly drowned her.

She knew the whole event only took a matter of seconds — she had done just as Tristan had told her, pulling it straight away without pausing to dwell on the pain — but still every second seemed to linger, stretched to days, weeks where all that existed was the sound of her heart breaking open, the pain of each severed heartstring as her heart fought to hold on to that which was being stolen from it.

Eventually, her heart relinquished its hold on her anger, stitching itself back together as best it could without its missing part.

"Very good, little Lockser. Eyes open now." The light that hit her eyes as soon as she opened them, dim as it was, sent a fresh wave of nausea through her. She turned to lose what little food she had eaten that morning, but Tristan pushed back to keep her upright. "Not yet, little Lockser. Plenty of time for that in a moment. You need to get rid of that first," he said, pointing to her wand and the thin glowing strands of blue clinging to its tip. "Tap it on your amulet."

Her hand trembling, her eyes blurry from pain, it took her a moment to point the wand at the nautilus shell, but eventually the tip of the wand clinked against the amulet. The strands of blue light sought out the safety of the spiraled shell, pouring out into the opening and winding down the spiral. When the last light disappeared, Tristan removed his hands from her shoulders. She fell to the side, nausea winning as she retched, blood and bile spilling out onto the beach

"That's a girl. Get it all out." He waited until her heaving was reduced to sobbing gasps for breath. "Come now. Drink this," he said as he helped her to sit back upright. He held a bottle to her lips, and she drank without question, the liquid tasting of strawberries and ginger pushing back the nausea. When he pulled the bottle away, she leaned back, taking long deep breaths of salty air. She was dimly aware of him waving his hand and the beach clearing of any evidence of her illness. "You did very well, little Lockser. Rather surprised you held on, to be honest. Better wizards than you have failed that particular spell, but you certainly aren't lacking in determination."

She scarcely heard him. All she heard was the dull thump of her heart. The hollow ring of each beat. The chill of her blood as it left the mourning organ.

"Come now," he said. "Look at me." He placed his thumb beneath her chin and forced her head towards him as he knelt before her. He studied her intently, searching for something in her pallid face. He sighed, the triumph in his expression giving way to the regret she so often saw when he spoke of his brother or his wife. "It'll hurt for a little while, but it will get easier. And meanwhile, you have your sun," he said as he smiled. Sad. Soft. Small. He tilted her heads up towards the sky, patches of blue starting to peer out through the gray. "Not as dramatic as your other spell, but it'll do the job and it'll keep the storm at bay."

She couldn't respond to him. Her eyes stayed skyward.

"I'll leave you to your sky now. I'm afraid I won't be around for a while. I'm called away to the continent. I will see you next summer perhaps, little Lockser."

She couldn't respond.

"Goodbye, my girl." She felt his hand on her head briefly and then he was gone, leaving her alone to the singing sea and the hollow echoes of her heart.

* * *

The next three days, the sun shone down on the island of Inis Stoirm for the first time in Juvia's days there, but she felt nothing from the sunlight. No warmth. No joy. No peace.

Nor did the sunshine change her standing with the Sisters or the other wards. The Sisters still regarded her with distrust, and the wards regarded her with contempt.

The only difference was Juvia's reaction to them. She felt no anger towards them. Not when Sister Paul spent half an hour berating her for her "ingratitude" to the abbey that had done so much for her. Not when the other wards put her Slytherin scarf to shreds.

She did, however, get into a fight with a couple of the wards over the latter. Slight though she was, she easily knocked down the elder girls, which she attributed to Gajeel's influence. The altercation did not go unnoticed by Sister Adele but fortunately for Juvia, there were a set of codes the wards lived by that extended even to her. Chief among those rules was never tell the Sisters about ward business. It kept her from being singled out for punishment by the Sisters, but she did have to spend her nights sleeping with one eye open for a while.

She had given up all pretense at studying. There was nothing else she could be bothered to do other than sitting on the beach, the sea singing to her. For her. While her heart ached for what'd been taken.

She felt nothing.

Empty.

Hollow little girl.

The amulet pulsed, reaching for her heart. She felt the now long familiar pain of her heart splintering open, reaching for its missing piece.

Before, she had just ignored the pain, keeping her anger contained. But…

She was tired.

Tired of the sun that couldn't warm. Tired of the blue sea that brought no joy.

Tired of the pain.

The sea sang, soft and gentle.

_-Sink with me, my love. Down with me, my love. To the sea. The loving sea._-

She clutched the amulet.

_-Be with me, my love. Safe with me, my love. With the sea. The loving sea._-

The anger contained within its seashell prison rushed out. Her heart splintered further to call back its missing part. She clutched the amulet tighter and bit hard on her tongue until she tasted the blood that filled her mouth, as the anger scorched every part of her it encountered before returning to her heart where it became whole once more.

Overcome by pain and nausea once more, she heaved whatever little she'd eaten that past day back onto the beach a moment later.

Turning her eyes skyward with panting breath, she watched the storms roll back into the sky. She couldn't even muster the strength to feel disappointed. All she felt was relief. Whole once more.

She pulled herself up off the beach to trudge back to the abbey, not looking forward to the response to the latest storm that was brewing overhead. She paused, however, just short of the steps. There, tucked in one of the crevices, was a flower. She hand't noticed it before, not that she was likely to notice any flower. There were dozens around the bluffs as it was. What stood out about this one, though, was that it was thoroughly blackened. Flower, stem and leaves. Not burnt. More like it was rotted through.

Cautiously, she reached out and touched the flower, but when her fingers grazed the petals, the entire flower dissolved into black ash.

Resolving to warn the abbess at the first opportunity in case it was the start of some disease among the flora of the island, Juvia pushed aside the worry moiling inside as she watched the ash scatter to the wind, too relieved to be feeling anything at all.


	11. Chapter 11 - Pity the Rain Witch

Author's Note: I rewrote this chapter. I rewrote this chapter a lot. Like full on scrapped and rewritten several times. Ten times in the case of the first section. So yeah, that's why this is so horribly, horribly late. Sorry. Hopefully some of you all are still around to read it. The good news is that Chapter 13's written and in a pretty good state. I shouldn't need to do a lot of clean up on it. The bad news is that the next Chapter is 12, not 13. So. Yeah. Fun times. Chapter 12's at least pretty well fleshed out in my head, though, so I just need to sit down and write it. Trying to get all of year two at least drafted before the end of the month, which isn't too much of a stretch given that Chapter 13 makes up a pretty sizable chunk of the year.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Pity the Rain Witch

"Is that the last of them?"

"Yes, sir," Juvia replied as she added the last of this term's new textbooks to the small pile she had accumulated.

Yes, sir. No, sir. Since Professor Jose had fetched her from Inis Stoirm, her vocabulary had been reduced to nothing more than a few words. By the time she met up with Gajeel on the train, she doubted she'd remember how to string together a full sentence.

"Good. Let's send these over to the inn, shall we?" Professor Jose waved his wand over the pile, and the books disappeared. "Out you go, then," he said as he opened the bookstore door for her. Juvia stepped out into the bustling street, the gently pattering rain welcoming her back outside. She opened her parasol and started her way down the street towards the Leaky Cauldron, only to be stopped by Professor Jose calling out to her. "This way, Miss Lockser." She turned to look back to him where he waited at the start of another street intersecting Diagon Alley. "I have an errand to run, and I think it'll be good for your education to accompany me on it. Come."

Juvia's rain answered for her, the gentle patter turning into a steady pulse that pounded the pavement, cold and hard, sending many of the Diagon Alley denizens huddling under umbrellas and awnings or the safety of store doorways. She always rather envied that about her rain. It never hesitated to speak its mind. Juvia, on the other hand, couldn't ever seem to find her tongue when she needed it most. A dozen excuses ran through her mind, but in the end, she only turned and followed him down the winding, narrow street.

The new street was far different from the thriving Diagon Alley, forever busy and full of the sounds of life. This one seemed to be completely devoid of people and the only sounds she could hear were the echo of their footsteps, the bustle of Diagon Alley reduced to nothing but a distant din. Even the rain seemed different. The August rain that clung damp and warm to Diagon Alley and its denizens now chilled and formed swirling mist that filled the street and left Juvia guessing whether the shapes she saw were people or wispy half-formed ghosts. She hurried after Professor Jose, not really eager to determine which they were.

Dingy and daunting shops framed either side of the alley, stocked with strange and curious wares in their windows, so unlike the storefronts in Diagon Alley, bright and inviting. Juvia paused before one store window, peering in past the darkened window to the collection of skulls on the other side, trying to discern just what they were skulls of. As she leaned in, something on the other side twitched. Something just behind one of the skulls. A scream tore past her lips as she stumbled back onto the ground when a massive black spider stalked over the skull.

"Miss Lockser!" Professor Jose snapped, the first sign of irritation he had shown towards her since arriving at Inis Stoirm. There was something almost comforting in that.

"Sorry, sir," she said as she scrambled to her feet and darted after him, fighting the urge to peer into any more store windows.

She followed Professor Jose close and silent as they wound their way further down the street. He paused at last in front of a rather dilapidated building. There was no name that she could see. A faded black dragon painted onto a weathered wooden sign acted as the only distinguishing feature. The door groaned as Professor Jose opened it. The pointed professor paused and waited expectantly for her. After a deep breath, she entered the building which appeared to be a tavern like the Leaky Cauldron. However, unlike the Leaky Cauldron which was always in a state of pleasant chaos, this tavern was disturbingly silent, save for the sound of her rain that leaked through the ceiling above and plunked down into a number of buckets positioned about the room. The air hung heavy in the room, a layer of smoke settling over the building as she entered. Hunched figures, seeming to be trying hard not to be noticed, sat at gnarled tables, most keeping their focus on their drinks in front of them. The little light that followed them in from the misty street abandoned them with the shut of the door behind Professor Jose, leaving nothing but the pale glow of a fireplace in the corner and the flickering light of a few scattered lanterns around the room to light their way.

Professor Jose swept past her and headed without hesitation towards a table in the corner of the tavern. Juvia followed close behind as quickly as sight would allow her, hugging her pink parasol close to her chest, painfully aware that it was drawing a fair bit more attention than she possibly wanted. Professor Jose approached his intended table, and its sole occupant, a well-dressed man sipping a glass of dark red wine. He seemed an odd addition to the tavern, rather like her pink umbrella. He was far too refined and well-groomed for his rotted and crumbling surroundings. Not that he would have suited the chaotic Leaky Cauldron either. He rather reminded her of the Ministry of Magic official Mary Wickham, everything from his neatly plaited long blue hair to his thin rimmed glasses chosen to display an air of authority over the people around him.

His smile, though...

Smiles spoke volumes to Juvia. Perhaps it was because so few had smiled at her, she learned to study the ones that were directed her way.

The abbess' smile always spoke of her weariness and uncertainty.

Gray's declared him honest, open and kind, as bright and beautiful as the sun that he had given her.

Gajeel smiled brash and wild, as though he spat on the expectation of what a smile should be.

Jose's smile betrayed him as every bit as insincere as it was.

This man, though. He smiled as though the world had whispered to him all its secrets, and he sat there smug in his hoarded knowledge. It was a smile that saw her not as a person but a pawn that he had already decided how and when to sacrifice. "Professor. Good to see you again," the man said. "Please, join me."

"Thank you, Mister Yura," Professor Jose said with a slight nod of his head. He motioned for Juvia to take a seat next to him. She quickly sat down, hunching low to try to shield herself from eyes she couldn't see.

"And this must be Miss Juvia Lockser. A pleasure to meet you, my dear," he said. Juvia, as was beginning to be her custom, couldn't speak. Not that anything she would have said would have been heard over the thunder that rumbled loud and low overhead.

"She's not very talkative, I'm afraid. Now, then, did you manage to procure the items I requested?"

"Of course, Professor."

Her expansion of education, as Jose had called it, largely consisted of Jose occasionally showing her some object that exchanged between the men and explaining what it did, but it always seemed an afterthought. Professor Jose hardly seemed to remember she was there half the time.

Mister Yura, however, seemed to take a keener interest in her than Jose. His eyes flicked back to her periodically. She thought at first, or perhaps just hoped, it was merely her umbrella, far too pink and frilly for the tavern, but she soon realized his interest was not with the awkward accessory clutched tightly to her chest. Her hand drifted away from the umbrella to shield the amulet from view. He only smiled while another half dozen leaks appeared around their table, the tavern creaking beneath the weight of her storm.

An hour later, Professor Jose pushed back from the table and stood, Juvia scrambling quickly to her own feet in the hope that she'd soon be far from the smiling man.

"Thank you, Mister Yura. I'll be in touch."

"Of course. Good to meet you, Miss Lockser." She flinched back as the eyes once more turned to her. "I look forward to seeing you again."

She didn't respond. She merely hurried after Professor Jose as he headed for the door. She heaved a sigh of relief as she felt the first drop of rain splash down onto her face. Professor Jose started back down the narrow street, down past the shops they'd passed before. They didn't get far before a figure appeared in the swirling mist, taller than even Professor Jose. Panic didn't get a chance to set in before the figure was given a familiar voice, her body immediately relaxing at the sound. "Professor Jose, Miss Lockser," Professor Precht greeted them as the mist parted enough to bring the professor into view.

A glance to Professor Jose revealed that he neither expected nor wanted to encounter the other professor, his smile gone tense and forced. "Professor Precht. Good to see you."

The Potions professor's one eye turned to look down on her. "I'm a little surprised to see you here, Miss Lockser. Was it necessary to bring her, Jose?"

"I had an errand to run, and as she's in my care, I thought it better to bring her with me. Besides, it seemed a good opportunity to educate her on topics she'll not learn at Hogwarts. You've always been a strong proponent of education beyond the school," the pointed professor said.

"As so I am. Very well. In that vein, I'll take over her care for the present, Jose," Professor Precht replied, Professor Jose tensing next to her at the suggestion. "I've some stops to make of my own, and she'll undoubtedly find it of interest."

"With all due respect, Professor, the Headmaster entrusted her care to me."

"Makarov will not mind. Come along, Miss Lockser. I'll return her to The Leaky Cauldron shortly."

Professor Jose seemed ready to argue further, but after a pause, he seemed to think better of saying anything, leaving the pair with just a nod before disappearing down into the misty street.

"If you'll follow me, Miss Lockser," Professor Precht said as he headed down the street. Juvia followed quietly behind, no happier to be on the odd twisting street than before but feeling infinitely safer in the older professor's shadow. For a few minutes, neither spoke, but eventually, when Professor Jose's retreating footsteps no longer echoed down the street, the professor paused. "Tell me, Miss Lockser, where did Professor Jose take you?"

"Juvia does not know what it is called. It was a tavern of some sort. It had a black dragon on a signpost."

"Hrm. The Black Wyvern. Who did he meet there?"

"They did not introduce him. Professor Jose only called him Mister Yura."

"Invel Yura. I'm familiar with him. He's the assistant head of the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry."

"Juvia did not like him."

Had she not known him over the past year, she might have confused the sound that came from Professor Precht then as a chuckle. But Professor Precht did not chuckle. She'd never even seen him smile. Sighs, frowns and scowls were the extent of his expressions. She peered up at him, but he looked as reserved as usual. "At the very least, you seem to have better sense than most your age, even in spite of spending so much time with the boy," he muttered. "Did he talk to you? Invel Yura?"

"Only to say hello and goodbye."

"And did they talk about you?"

"No, sir. Professor Jose was there to pick up some items Mister Yura had for him."

Professor Precht studied her a moment, she supposed to determine whether or not she was telling the truth, though why he'd think that she'd lie for Professor Jose was beyond her. He seemed satisfied with what he saw and continued on.

"Sir?" she asked as she trotted up beside him. "What is this place?"

"It's called Knockturn Alley. The shops here specialize in goods not readily sold in more respectable places like Diagon Alley."

"Should Juvia not be here?" she asked softly, a knot of worry tightening in the pit of her stomach.

"You are here with a professor of Hogwarts. You are fine, but I would not suggest coming here on your own. There's a great deal of trouble an untrained witch can get into here."

"But she's not in any trouble now?"

"I dare say Makarov will not be pleased with Jose for taking you here, but it'll be Jose he'll be cross with, not you. And I do agree with Jose on this point. There are far more forms of magic than you'll learn in Hogwarts or see on Diagon Alley, and best to learn now that pretending they don't exist doesn't make it so," he said as they paused in front of what looked to be an apothecary shop, a multicolored display of bottles in various shapes and sizes arranged in the storefront. "And now, little Slytherin, we've arrived at your first lesson, poisons."

* * *

Juvia wasted no time in getting onto the train when she and Professor Jose arrived at Platform 9 3/4, only just remembering to thank Professor Jose as she stepped up into the train, not that he was anywhere to be found when she turned around. Grateful for that small mercy, she darted into the train, not bothering to look around for Gajeel. He had written to her a couple of weeks earlier to tell her that he'd meet her on the train to distance himself from his oft-cursed aunt as soon as possible. She hurried towards the last carriage and had hardly entered the carriage when she was greeted by a familiar string of curses further down the hall.

A smile, the first in months as far as she could remember, lit her face as she quickened her pace. She paused before the source of the cursing and peered inside where Gajeel was trying to grab at something from one of the overhead shelves.

"Gajeel?" she called out as she pulled open the door. "What are you doing?"

"Getting the bastard down. Mind yer face," the boy replied as he started pulling something back from the shelf.

An eyebrow raised, Juvia peered quizzically at her fellow Slytherin. "Juvia's face?"

"Just watch yer face," Gajeel growled as he drew a hissing and spitting black mass of fur from the shelf. She hadn't seen many cats in her years on Inis Storim. Only the old tabby mouser that lived on the abbey grounds, but the creature that Gajeel pulled from the shelf wasn't quite like the tabby, far larger with rounded ears and a scar over his left eye. Holding the creature at arm's length, Gajeel set it onto the seat across from him. "Careful around that thing."

"What is it?" Juvia asked as she took a seat next to the creature. It whipped its tail back and forth, a low rumbling growl emerging from the mass of fur, rather like the roll of her thunder whenever she was irritated.

"It's a Kneazle. Kinda like a cat but smarter and a bigger pain in the ass. My aunt breeds them and sent this one with me," he growled with a jerk of his head towards the black creature as he slunk back in his seat.

She scooted closer to the creature, ignoring the muttered warning from Gajeel, and cautiously reached out to scratch behind the Kneazle's ears. The old abbey mouser never liked her much, all teeth and claws whenever she tried to pet it, but the black Kneazle only tilted his head, leaning into her scratching fingers. The low rumbling growl turned into a steady purr as she started to scratch beneath his chin.

"That figures," Gajeel muttered from across her.

"Well, did you try petting him?"

"Are ya kidding'? I shoved his ass in the carrier and left him there until he broke out ten minutes ago."

"Well, maybe that's why he's angry. What's his name?" she asked as the Kneazle stood and patted over to her lap, climbing on and curling up. The boy across from her flushed and mumbled something incomprehensible. "What was that?"

"Panther Lily," he snapped, "alright?"

She paused a second, blinking, and then grinned at her friend.

"Shaddup, Raindrop," he growled.

"Juvia didn't say anything," she replied sweetly, the smile never faltering.

"Then don't think it."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Good."

She let silence settle in, disrupted only by Panther Lily's rumbling purr, before following up with, "so, why Panther Lily?"

"Goddammit, Raindrop!"

"Oh, come on! Juvia's curious! Why Panther Lily?"

"Because my aunt's insane! What else do you need to know?"

"Are you going to call him Panther or Lily?"

"Was going to call him Panther, but then the bastard bit me, so fuck him. Lily, it is," the boy grumbled, leaning back and crossing his arms after his chest.

The train whistled to announce their departure, Juvia feeling all the stress of the previous few months ebb away with the sound even as her rain pattered on. The train rolled forward a few minutes later and soon they were leaving London and its discord far behind. Heaving a relieved sigh, she leaned back, Panther Lily looking up at her and meowing loudly to protest the stopping of scratches. "Sorry," she apologized as she resumed her petting. "Why did you get a Kneazle anyways?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You just don't seem a pet sort of person."

"Yeah, well, Dragneel got one so I figured I should get one too." Juvia glared at the boy. "What?"

"Juvia had to practically beg to get three letters from you, but you kept in touch with Dragneel?"

"Not by choice! The idiot brought the wretched thing over to my house and flung it in my face. He had already managed to permanently dye the damn thing blue. Idiot."

"Dragneel lives by you?"

Gajeel nodded. "Just down the street. At least when I'm living at the Blacksteel manor. A few of the old families have homes in the area."

"Does Gray live by you?"

"Fullbuster? Nah. He lives with his pa up north somewhere. Highlands, I think."

"Well, other than Dragneel and his Kneazle, how was your summer?"

Gajeel's red eyes narrowed on her. "I wrote ya," he snapped.

"Three letters," she reminded him, holding up three fingers for emphasis. "And considering Dragneel and Panther Lily never popped up in any of those letters, Juvia's going to guess you left out a fair bit."

"Like you mentioned your storms coming back," he scoffed, jerking a thumb at the window and its defense against the assaulting rain.

Juvia looked down at the black mass of fun on her lap, avoiding the glare from its owner. "Juvia didn't want you to worry."

"Yeah, well, not like you can hide anything," he muttered, the rain picking up to agree with him. Guilt pricked at her, though not because of her rain. She hadn't told him about Tristan. She had already resolved not to. She didn't want him to worry. "So, what happened?"

"Nothing."

"I can see that. What happened?" he asked again, his tone sharper than before.

"Nothing. Really, Gajeel," she insisted, looking up at him. "Inis Storim is just Inis Stoirm. Juvia may have changed while she was away, but it hasn't. It won't. She'll just always be nothing but a rain witch there." Juvia smiled at him. "Juvia's just really glad to be back with you, Gajeel."

The red-eyed boy just grunted in response, though he seemed largely placated. He turned his focus out the window while Juvia returned her attention to Panther Lily, the compartment silent save the steady rumble of the train and purring of the Kneazle. About five minutes later, though, Gajeel cleared his throat. She turned her focus back to him, but he was still looking out the window. "My uncle's gonna be on assignment for another year, at least, but when he gets back, you should come stay with us for a bit during the break."

A grin found its way onto her face. "You'd give up your peace and quiet fro the break."

"Yeah, well, between ya and the old man, at least I know I can take ya in a fight. 'Sides, with you there, the old man may spend his time irritating yer ass rather than mine," he muttered as he leaned back in his seat.

Juvia giggled, happy again for the first time in months. "Juvia missed you, Gajeel."

"Yeah, yeah," came the grumbled response followed by a stretch of a few silent minutes before he added, "Missed you too, Raindrop."

* * *

Kneazle cradled rather precariously in one arm, Juvia fished her wand from her robes once she stepped off of the train. Fetching the all-important memory, she pointed the wand skyward. "_Meteolojinx Recanto_." Relief washed over her as the clouds obediently parted to reveal the bright full moon swimming in its ocean of twinkling stars. She had been so worried that after three months the spell wouldn't work, but there it was again. The moon, in all its brilliant glory. And tomorrow, she'd see the sun again. Feel its warmth. Just a few hours away.

"Good job, Raindrop," Gajeel said as he set a heavy hand on her head and ruffled her hair, Juvia swatting fruitlessly at his hand. The boy had already been among the tallest first years last year, and he had somehow managed to gain another few inches over the summer months. Juvia, on the other hand, hadn't grown so much an inch, leaving Gajeel towering a good foot over her and making any attempt to swat him away from highly ineffective. "Come on. Carriages are this way, judging by the way people are movin'," he said as he started to push his way through, aided by the fact that he not only towered by Juvia, he also towered over most of the younger years. Juvia had to resort to hurrying close in his wake to avoid being jostled about, Panther Lily taking swipes and growling loudly at a few students that crowded too close. "Here we go," Gajeel said at last. The crowd of students started to disperse, allowing Juvia to finally get a look at the carriages waiting for them.

The carriages themselves were not particularly interesting - she much preferred the rowboats that carried them across the lake last year - but the creatures that pulled them were quite another matter entirely. She had never seen anything quite like them. They rather looked like a mix of a dragon and a horse, too reptilian to be a horse, to equine-like to be a dragon. The shape at a distance looked like a horse, but a pair of frail looking leathery wings jutted out from their backs, held together by membrane so thin that the moon seemed to shine right through them unobstructed. Everything from their spindly legs - far too thin to support the frame they carried, slight as it was - to their underfed forms conveyed a sense of fragility that couldn't possibly carry them to the castle beyond the lake, and yet there they were, set to do just that.

Entranced as she was, she didn't react when Gajeel plucked Panther lily out from her arms. "Here, give me that thing. I'll put him away. Stop hissing, ya bastard, and get in the damn carrier. I swear, ya bite me again, I'm feedin' ya to the giant squid in the lake. Raindrop, ya coming?"

"What are they, Gajeel?" she asked, not moving towards the carriage yet.

"What's what?"

"The horses."

Gajeel stepped back out of the carriage, peered over at where the creatures waited, pawing at the earth beneath their burnished hooves, and then looked backed at her. "Ya can see them?"

Juvia tore her gaze away from the odd creatures and frowned at him. "You can't?"

"They're called thestrals," he replied after a brief pause. "Get in, Raindrop."

Juvia headed for the carriage but stopped to pause alongside one of the pair bound to their carriage, the creature turning towards her, its sunken eye peering down at her. Hesitantly, she reached out to stroke the arched neck. Much as she had limited exposure to cats, her experience with horses was limited to a single Connemara pony one of the neighboring families kept, but unlike the old mouser, the pony was happy to let her pet it, particularly after she had smuggled away a carrot or two from the abbey larder. The soft hid of the pony, however, did nothing to prepare her for the leathery feel of the thestral's skin or the way she felt each bone beneath her fingertips as she ran her hand down its neck. The creature shifted towards he and butted its head against her, drawing a giggle from the blunette. "Well, hello to you too," she said, stroking the creature's forehead.

"Raindrop, come on. The other carriages are startin' to move," Gajeel called as he leaned out from within the carriage.

"Coming!" She called back. After a final pat on the thestral's neck, she trotted over to the carriage and climbed in, relying far more than she'd care to admit on Gajeel to scramble inside, feeling far too small to manage the steps effectively on her own. She settled next to the now caged Panther Lily, hidden from view by the carrier with only the steady growl from within to betray his location.

"Who'd you see die?" he asked as she settled in.

She paused a moment and tilted her head to the side as she studied him while he stared back at her. "Is there a clarification coming?"

"Thestrals can only be seen by people who have seen someone die," he replied.

"That's an odd trait. How does that even work?"

"You regularly make it rain, but invisible horses are too much?"

"Point taken," she muttered. She paused, thinking for a moment. "Juvia doesn't know. She doesn't think she's seen anyone die. The only person she can remember dying at the abbey was old Sister Mary Margaret, and she only heard about it the following morning. Does that count?"

"Don't think so. I've heard of plenty of people dyin' and I still can't see 'em. My ma had a herd of 'em. I always figured the groom was playing a prank on her."

"Maybe she's forgotten."

"It seems like the sort of thing ya'd remember."

The carriage lurched forward, presenting any further response. She leaned out the window and looked out at the parade of lights making their way to Hogwarts, like a river of lights winding towards the castle. Across from her, Gajeel let out a low groan. She looked back at the boy who was looking a touch green. "Are you alright, Gajeel?"

The boy only answered with another groan as the carriage bounced about. Unfazed by the movement or the chilled air that whipped at her face, she returned her focus back to Hogwarts, gleaming through the dark like a beacon calling her home.

"Goddammit, how'd he get out again?"

Ignoring the sudden crashing coming about from inside, she kept her eyes ahead. Home.

* * *

"Oh, thank God, get me outta this thing!" Gajeel hardly waited for the carriage to roll to a complete stop before he unlatched the door and tumbled outside with all the elegance of a Leaky Cauldron patron after the innkepper announced last call.

Far more delicately, Juvia followed him out, determined not to start the school year faceplanting out of a carriage. She looked back into the carriage where Panther Lily peered back from one of the overhead bins. "Lily's still in there."

"Oh God, leave him. We'll get him on the way back end of term," Gajeel moaned from his current resting spot sprawled out on the ground.

"Gajeel."

"Yer a pain in the ass, ya know that?"

"Do you want Juvia to get him?"

"No. Ya try stickin' him in that carrier and he's gonna start flailin'. Small as ya are, he's gonna hit somethin' important. Just gimme a moment and I'll get 'im."

"Okay," she said as she moved towards the thestral from before. She stayed beside it, patting the creature's neck until she heard a familiar cacophony of voices, animated quarreling announcing the approach of a carriage rolling in to join the other carriages already arrived. Like the tide forever being called back to the sea, Juvia moved towards the newly arriving carriage.

"Oi, don't wander off too far," Gajeel called, still sprawled on the ground.

With a wordless wave back to him, she crept her way through the now empty line of carriages to reach the arriving addition. Keeping herself hidden behind one of the empty carriages, she smiled as the voices became ever clearer.

"Dammit, Natsu!" Her stomach did the now familiar flip at the sound of Gray's voice. "Let me out first. I'm closer to the door."

"Let me out of this thing," Dragneel wailed from inside the carriage. The door popped open and out tumbled the pair, a mass of limbs, black robes and black and pink hair. Well, black robe. Singular. Gray had apparently lost his at some point. Along with his shirt. "Get off of me, you flame-brained idiot!"

"I'm gonna be ill," Dragneel groaned.

"Not on me, you're not," Gray snapped, shoving the boy off of him.

"Both of you get off the ground this instant," ordered the red-haired Scarlet as she exited the carriage.

"Yes, ma'am!" the pair chimed in unison, scrambling to their feet. Or trying to, anyways. Gray managed to keep his balance easily enough, but Dragneel, still sporting the same shade of green as Gajeel, stumbled backwards into the carriage, right into Heartfilia as she descended from the carriage. Both pink-haired idiot and blond queen bee went falling back into the carriage with a thundering crash and shriek from Heartfilia.

Scarlet groaned while cradling her face in her hand. Gray just laughed, a sound that she hadn't realized she had missed so much until that moment. She leaned against the carriage, smiling absently, while she watched Gray. Watched the way the moon caught his eyes, bright and beautiful. Watched as he practically glowed with life.

She could say hello.

That was a normal thing people did, wasn't it?

Even for little orphan rain witches. Even she could say hello.

So why weren't her traitorous feet moving?

While she struggled to convince her paralyzed form to move, others joined the four Gryffindors. "I'm pretty sure they can hear the four of you from the Great Hall," one of the new arrivals, Loke Llewellyn, said as he approached.

"Yeah, well, the flame-brained idiot's never heard of being quiet," Gray replied with a scowl.

"Heard you just fine too, Gray," Llewellyn replied with a grin. "Very manly shriek by the way."

"Ah, shut up!" the raven-haired boy snapped.

"Why so irritable, Gray?" Alberona asked as she joined them. "I thought you'd be relieved. The rain's stopped," she said, gesturing up at the inky black sky. Juvia felt the heat rise in her face at the mention of the rain. "See? All clear. Your little girlfriend's just fine," she said as she slung an arm around his shoulder which he quickly tried to shuffle off with no success.

"Awwww, was ice princess worried?" Dragneel teased, still sprawled out on the carriage steps, half his body still in the carriage.

"Natsu, your elbow!" Heartfilia snapped from further in the carriage.

"Sorry, Luce!" he called back.

Cana giggled. "Been freaking out since we met up at Diagon Alley. So cute!"

"Cana, I swear, if you don't let go of me, I'm cursing you bald!" Gray growled, scowling dark and dangerous. Not that Juvia really noticed. Nothing really mattered right then. Nothing mattered but one beautiful thought, bright and warm like the sun she hadn't seen in months.

He was worried about her.

He cared about _her_.

She couldn't feel the chill of the night. She couldn't remember the loneliness of the past three months. She couldn't feel the eyes on her, hear the whispers following her. All she could feel was the warmth that spread over her, feel the way it found its way to her heart, so worn and scarred over the summer, and made it whole again.

He _cared _about _her_.

"Cute," the Llewellyn boy chuckled. "When's the wedding, Fullbuster?"

"Shut up, Loke, it's not like that!" Even in the dark, she could see the boy flush red. "I just feel sorry for her, that's all."

Like the wind blowing in from the sea, all the warmth fled from her. The smile fell from her face, and heart stilled in her chest. She ducked behind the carriage, flat against the vehicle to shield her from the further sight or sound, but still she heard his words ringing in her head, like the great bell of St. Brigid's, loud, thundering, incessant, no matter how well she hid away.

Sorry.

He felt _sorry _for her.

Pity.

That's all it was.

Pity.

He didn't care about her. He didn't want her around. He pitied her. One more person seeking her out to appease their conscience. She was nothing but a burden. To him. To the abbess. To Gajeel.

Stupid girl.

She clutched at her chest while her heart twisted and squeezed to wring out every last bit of joy it had so foolishly allowed to seep in.

Stupid, stupid girl.

The first cold drop that splashed onto her arm, she mistook as a tear, wiping angrily at her eyes with the black of her hand. A second followed, however, and then a third. She turned skyward just as the last glimpse of moon was swallowed by the stormy clouds. Her storm wasted no time in picking up from a gentle patter to a full on downpour. She was only dimly aware of scattered shrieks from the other side of the carriage and the retreating steps as the students left to find shelter.

She stayed a moment in the rain, a sort of comfort in the familiarity. Just a lonely little rain witch. How dare she think she was anything more. Anything else.

She pulled her wand from her robe and like an automaton, executed the spell as she had so many times before. "_Meteolojinx Recanto_." Nothing. No light climbing upwards. No rippling clouds. Nothing. As if she hadn't said anything at all. She closed her eyes, fetching the memory. Or trying to. But it was different now. All she could see was the pity in his eyes. All she could feel was the wrenching of her heart. Everything else was a twisted blur. "_Meteolojinx Recanto_." Still nothing. Panic settled in, her wand movements erratic and rushed. "_Meteolojinx Recanto! Meteolojinx Recanto!_" The sky wept, mingling its tears with hers.

She wasn't going to ever see the sun again. Three short months. That was all the time she would ever have. That was all the time she deserved.

Stupid little rain witch.

No.

She couldn't lose the sun now. She couldn't! It wasn't fair!

She closed her eyes and fetched her wand.

She tried to picture her emotions as Tristan taught her but they were a jumbled mess, an indistinguishable tangle of thoughts and feelings. It wasn't like the day on the beach where her anger had overpowered all other emotions. They massed and swelled, like the seas of Inis Stoirm, each demanding to be acknowledged. She couldn't separate any one from the others, so she gave them all form, a twisting, contorting ball of many colors, swarming and endlessly circling like one of the schools of fish outside her dorm window, no one color indistinguishable from the next. She couldn't see any one to remove it from the school.

So she took them all.

She held on, even as it burned. It scalded. It froze. It inflicted a dozen different pains that she could not give names to, but still she would not release them. Anything was better than the breaking of her heart.

Better prepared this time, she managed to keep her scream to little more than a strangled cry as she tore the ball away, the sound lost to the crack of thunder overhead. Trembling, she tapped the wand against the shell and strands of blue sought the safety of the spiral shell. Once they were safely stowed away, she leaned back against the carriage and took deep, steady breaths, eyes closed, listening for the echo of her heart. She couldn't feel the rain. Not anymore. She could hear it still. She could hear the patter where her heartbeat should have been.

Drip, drip, drop.

She opened her eyes and stared up at the clearing night sky, the moon peering through the clouds that parted before it. She stayed there, watching the stars, taking deep breaths and listening to the rain in her heart.

Drip, drip, drop.

Hollow little rain witch.

"Juvia!"

Gajeel.

She didn't answer. She just kept breathing.

"Juvia, where the hell -." Gajeel's shouting cut short as he rounded a corner and found her. She didn't turn towards him. She stayed with her eyes on the ever-clearing sky. On the stars that twinkled far above. "Juvia! Are you okay? What happened?"

"Juvia's fine," she replied, her voice hardly more than a whisper.

"What happened?" he repeated.

"Nothing. She's fine," she assured him. She finally tore her eyes from the sky and down to Gajeel, sporting a new set of fresh scratches from some battle with Panther Lily. She tried to smile at him. Tried to be reassuring. But it was though her face had forgotten how. "Let's go inside," she said as she pulled away from the carriage. "Juvia's cold."


	12. Chapter 12 - The Zeref and her Redfox

Author's Note: Happy New Year. I can still say that, dammit. It's only early February... In a slightly related note, December and January can go straight to the tenth circle of hell. Yes, I know there are only nine. They deserve one all their own.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The Zeref and her Redfox

"Three, two, one. Draw!"

Bright red and crackling, a blast tore past Juvia and the other students and landed square on the chest of one of the Slytherin fifth years, the massive boy flying backwards and landing with a heavy thud after a few yards. The boy stayed sprawled out on the platform, a low groan the only sign that he was still conscious.

"Very good, Mister Redfox," Professor Jose said as he approached the red-eyed boy on the other end of the platform. He smiled. Like the puppeteer pleased that his favorite marionette was behaving exactly as he commanded.

"Giihii!" Gajeel laughed. "Thanks, Professor."

"Now, a few observations that'll improve your accuracy," the professor continued. The puppeteer and his marionette chatted low between themselves while Gajeel's latest unfortunate victim moaned as he struggled to get back on his feet.

Juvia watched the professor and his student with her now normal detached interest, the boy hanging intently on every comment the pointed professor made. Beside her, the other students that comprised the Phantom Lords shifted nervously as they whispered amongst themselves, their fear palpable as they glanced between Gajeel and the boy he had sent flying, each terrified at the prospect of being Gajeel's next opponent.

For Juvia's part, she wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel. She tried to imagine how she would have felt last year. Would she have been afraid like the others? That seemed unlikely. She could not recall ever being afraid of Gajeel before. Perhaps she'd be angry? Worried? Proud? She heaved a sigh. She couldn't remember, and it tired her to think of it.

Most things tired her nowadays. Tristan had been right. The pain had lessened over time. Two months had passed since she gutted her heart to quell her storms, and she no longer felt the ache from that butchered organ. It no longer called and reached out for her missing pieces. It no longer hurt. She no longer hurt. She only felt the exhaustion now. The cold. She only heard the patter of rain where her heart beat should have been.

Gajeel had been worried those first few weeks. He had dragged her to Madame Porlyusica multiple times, but as Juvia wasn't ill or injured, the dour woman had been quick to chase the pair away. When the last visit had ended with multiple swats of a broom over Gajeel's head and even one over Juvia's head for good measure, Gajeel had given up taking her to the Infirmary. Eventually, Gajeel just seemed to accept this was his friend now. His quiet, detached little friend.

Professor Jose's dueling lessons had done a great deal to distract him. In dueling, Gajeel found his calling. He was a natural and enthusiastic combatant. He backed away from no challenge and instigated more than his fair share of fights, earning him a near permanent place in detention.

Whispers, for once not directed at her or about her, began to swirl about the school. Whispers of the newest Redfox, ready to follow in the footsteps of his infamous father. She knew those whispers. She knew the fear they carried with them. She had heard them often in her time on Inis Stoirm. But unlike her, Gajeel didn't seem to mind. Fear he preferred over hate. Fear was useful. If he couldn't be liked, fear would do just fine. It kept many other students from approaching them, not that many were inclined to do so before. It also kept many from harassing Juvia, too terrified to afraid to bring down the boy's wrath on them. The protection it afforded Juvia brought the boy a great deal of relief.

It also brought agitation to many of their fellow Phantom Lords when Professor Jose called her up next. "Miss Lockser, your turn."

Gajeel hopped down from the platform beside her before helping her to climb onto it, the platform too tall for her to manage on her own very easily. As she straightened herself and pulled her wand from her robes, she wondered how she would have felt before, standing before all the other students, waiting for a fight she wasn't likely to win. Worried? Scared? Scared was a normal reaction to such a situation, wasn't it? Yes, scared. That sounded right. Not that she could clearly remember how being scared felt at the moment.

"Alright, Mister Clay, you'll be opposing," Professor Jose called out.

The dark-skinned third year, Boze Clay, recoiled. "I concede."

"You can't concede," the professor snapped. "Get up here."

"I hit her, Redfox tears off my head," the boy protested, casting an uneasy glance at Gajeel.

"I am losing my patience, Mister Clay." The pointed professor narrowed his eyes on the stalling student. The boy seemed to go through some great internal debate about who frightened him more, eyes darting between the scowling professor and the red-eyed student who stood smiling with a full set of teeth on display. Fear of the professor apparently won out, and he scrambled up onto the platform, a muttered set of prayers just audible from his group of friends below. Professor Jose rolled his eyes. "Good. Now then, Miss Lockser. I want you to try to summon a shield charm. Do you remember how to cast it?" She nodded. "Good. Mister Clay, you'll be attempting to disarm Miss Lockser." The boy flinched but nodded all the same. "Good. Now, turn. Walk. Three, two one. Draw!"

There were things you learned being the arguably only friend of a dueler, if one ignored the temperamental Kneazle he'd managed to reach some sort of truce with. Chief among them was how to duel yourself. The next few moves were as natural as breathing to her by now. She spun on her heel and raised her wand. "_Protego_." The spell crackled to life, a shield spreading from the point of her wand, rippling like water around her. A breath later, however, it collapsed, just as Clay's disarm spell hurtled towards her. Unimpeded, it struck her hand and sent her wand spiraling behind her. Pain coursed from the point of impact, drawing a sharp hiss from her involuntarily.

"Shit! Sorry! Sorry!" the boy frantically apologized, though not to her. Juvia glanced back at Gajeel whose predatory smile had given way to a scowl and narrowed stare at the cowering boy.

"Gajeel," she called out softly. Red eyes flicked over to her, the scowl still set on his face. "Can you find Juvia's wand?" He gave her a short nod in response and turned to search for the wand, students practically falling over one another trying to get out of his way. Clay mouthed a wordless _Thank you_ to her. She merely nodded at him in response.

"Good execution and aim, Mister Clay, but you're too slow on the cast," Professor Jose said as he approached her and Clay, standing between them. "Miss Lockser, your reaction time is good, but your spell lacks focus." The professor didn't seem upset or disappointed by her failure. He merely smiled. The puppeteer and his obedient marionette, dancing just as he wanted. "Study the spell further."

"Yes, sir," she said quietly before turning and heading for the side of the platform where Gajeel waited. She sat down by the edge and waited for Gajeel to lift her off of it. He set her down next to him and then handed the wand back to her.

"Don't worry, Raindrop. I'll help ya sort it out," Gajeel said to her, a heavy hand placed on her head, a gesture that always had the unique Gajeel trait of being both irritating and comforting all in the same breath. "Good job on the draw, though. Practicin's been helping'." She nodded. "Didya see how quickly Ward crumpled?" The boy grinned as he turned his focus back onto the platform where two new combatants had been called forward. She merely nodded again, not that he saw it, his eyes trained on the figures climbing up, his thoughts still on the fight he'd just finished and all the fights still to come. "Giihii! Can't wait for Jose to have us try out the stunning spell. Gonna use it on Dragneel a few dozen times. See if it improves the idoit's brain any. Probably not, but it'll be fun tryin'." The boy went on while Juvia just continued to nod. The words he said reduced to a hollow din, lost to the rain that only she could hear.

_Drip, drip, drop._

She closed her eyes, exhaustion setting in once more.

_Drip, drip, drop._

* * *

"No, Natsu!" Erza snapped.

"Oh, come on! Redfox gets to!" the pink-haired boy protested.

"That's because Professor Jose's allowing him to duel. Not you," the scarlet-haired witch replied, folding her arms over her chest with a scowl.

"That's not fair," the boy pouted. "I'm going down there and fighting him." Gray didn't even blink when Natsu started to climb onto the window sill, apparently intent on jumping down from the open window to the courtyard three stories below. This would normally have been the point where Gray would have helped the idiot along with a well-placed kick in the ass.

Unfortunately for both of them, or perhaps fortunately and unfortunately for Natsu, Erza was far faster. Long before Natsu could jump or Gray could help him on his way, Erza dragged the boy away from the window via a vice like grip on the boy's ear. She dragged him over to one of the library tables, Natsu yelping all the while. After pulling back a chair and shoving the pink-haired boy into it, she pointed to the Potions textbook on the desk. "Read."

Grumbling and rubbing his poor assaulted ear, Natsu turned to his books while Gray returned his focus to the courtyard below where Redfox was currently instructing Juvia on how to summon a shield charm. The pair had been at it for nearly twenty minutes and progress, from what Gray could see, had been slow. He frowned as he watched them. It wasn't like her. _She _wasn't like her. There was no enthusiasm in her movements. She almost seemed like a mechanical toy, executing motions that she had been crafted to perform. It didn't match the girl from last year. Even at her most timid last year, she still had a child-like fascination with magic, approaching every class he had with her with a wonder that never failed to leave her smiling. But not this year. He hadn't seen her smile. Not once. Every class he had with her, she merely sat quiet, disinterested.

Gray winced as the mechanical girl's shield collapsed right as Redfox's spell raced towards her. The Slytherin boy's spell passed harmlessly over her left shoulder. The girl never reacted even as it whizzed by her, though she must have felt it as it passed by. Heard it crackle in her ears. But nothing. His frown deepened as did the knot that twisted in his stomach.

"He's rather terrifying, isn't he?" Lucy said quietly as she stood beside him, her focus not on the small blunette but the towering boy that now circled around his small companion while studying the other's form.

"I can totally take him!" Natsu chimed in from the desk that Erza had banished him to.

"Back to your classwork, Natsu," the scarlet witch said with a glare at the boy that quickly silenced any further boasting from the boy.

"Heard a couple of the Phantom Lords talking about him," Loke said as he watched the pair below as well. "They say he's an absolute monster in a duel."

"What do you expect? He's a Redfox," Lucy muttered. "What's Professor Jose even doing teaching dueling to second years?"

"Professor Gildarts when over the Disarming Charm just last week," Levy reminded her as she sat at the same table that Natsu had been exiled to, though her presence there was not enforced by the scarlet-haired fury that still hovered over Natsu. The Ravenclaw blunette had little interest in the activities of either the Redfox or the Ameonna, as most the school had now christened her after a class last year had encountered a story of a rain spirit of the same name. She was perfectly content merely listening to the conversation while surrounded by her various opened texts, safe among her kingdom of words and knowledge.

"Well, at least Professor Gildarts isn't hosting fight clubs," Lucy grumbled, arms folded over her chest. "Don't you think it's odd that Professor Jose only invited Slytherins and a few Ravenclaws into the Phantom Lords? No Hufflepuffs. No Gryffindors. I mean, he invited Lockser into the Phantom Lords. Don't you think that's suspicious?"

"Why would that be suspicious? Juvia was one of the best students in the Defense class last year!" Gray snapped, not bothering to hide his irritation with the direction the conversation was going. It was a direction more than a few conversations had gone before.

Every generation that passed through Hogwarts looked with troubled eyes at their fellow students, wondering if the next Zeref studied amongst them. It was a given that there would be a next one, just as there had been one every thirty years or so for the last four hundred years.

He had already heard more than he wanted about the would-be Zeref lurking in their midsts.

It was bad enough when Dreyar was sorted into Slytherin. Nearly the entire school had been quick to pass judgment on him. Gray himself had little love for Dreyar, pompous ass that he was, but it seemed unfair to condemn another person as their generation's incarnation of an evil wizard simply because a hat put him in a House.

Even more ridiculous than the condemnation of Dreyar were those that believed it wasn't Dreyar but Erza who would assume the mantle of Zeref. Irene Belserion had been the most formidable of the last Zeref's generals. There had even been rumors that she herself had been the Zeref, a rumor supported by the fact that the war drew to a rapid conclusion after the death of the Scarlet Despair. There was some that looked to Erza, skilled in magic, commanding in presence, as the natural successor to her mother's role. Even her sorting into Gryffindor hadn't dissuaded everyone from their belief that the Scarlet Despair was to be reborn in the form of her daughter. As terrifying as Erza could be, Gray couldn't regard the possibility without utter contempt.

And then there was the problem of the Redfox.

Every Zeref had a Redfox. It was a universal truth, like the sun rising in the east or Natsu flunking potions. Though there were still Redfox cousins lurking about, everyone's focus was on Gajeel Redfox. Son of the last Zeref general, grandnephew of the one before that, the entire school seemed to wait to see who he'd latch on to. Except he didn't speak to Dreyar and he never looked twice at Erza. The only other student he'd associate with was Juvia.

No one seemed to think much about it at first. She was just the Ameonna. An oddity in her own right. A Muggle-born. A nameless orphan with no family.

This term, however, she changed. She was colder. More reserved. The whispers began to grow.

"Erza was a far better student," Lucy replied, "and Jose didn't invite her."

"Maybe Jose's afraid of Erza," Loke offered. "Can't say I blame him." The orange-haired boy yelped as Erza grabbed him by the ear, just as she had with Natsu, dragging him over to the library table.

"Sit. Study," Erza ordered. "Precht's test is in a couple of days, and you and Natsu have a lot to work on."

"It's just very odd that he invited Lockser but not Erza," Lucy pressed on, clearly determined not to be distracted by Loke's exile to the table.

Gray only had time to scowl before Cana turned to him. "Wasn't your brother in the Phantom Lords, Gray?"

"Cousin," he snapped back, the response almost a reflex.

"Adopted brother," Cana insisted.

"Reluctantly adopted relation," he replied, his arms folded over his chest as he glared at the brunette, unwilling to call the elder boy anything as close as a brother. Silver had adopted the boy after the matron of St. Rowena's, Ur Milkovich, died in the attack on the orphanage. Lyon and Gray had been two of the first left in Ur's care, the last Zeref emerging the Scottish Highlands and she had taken the pair as apprentices while they waited for news of their parents and the war. When the smoke cleared, Ur was gone. As was Gray's mother and both of Lyon's parents. How the older boy ended up in Silver's care was still a mystery to Gray, but the hell he was acknowledging him as a brother. Pompous git. "He was only in the Phantom Lords for a few months start of last year. Just long enough to pick up a few jinxes he used on me that winter break."

"Why only a few months?" Lucy asked, finally tearing her eyes away from the pair outside to turn to him.

"Dad convinced him to quit when he found out it was Jose leading it. He doesn't like Jose."

The shock on Cana's face was, he knew, exaggerated but not altogether insincere. "Silver doesn't like Jose? Silver likes everyone! He even likes Loke!"

"Hey!" The oft maligned boy barked from his exiled table. "I'll have you know. I resemble that remark."

Gray ignored him. "Apparently Jose was always running around trying to impress Redfox and his cronies when he and Dad were at Hogwarts together. Left a bad impression. And when everything happened at Raven's Hollow, it only go worse."

He saw Lucy tense out of the corner of his eye. He shot her a sympathetic glance at the girl. All of them, save Erza, had suffered through the assault on St. Rowena's and the village that sheltered it, but for Lucy, the wound was far fresher. Her mother had survived, unlike his own, but Layla Heartfilia never returned to health and over the most recent summer break, her body had finally given in.

"I didn't think Professor Jose was at Raven's Hollow," Erza said with a frown.

"He wasn't, but he was supposed to have been, according to Dad," he replied. "Dad believes that Jose knew the Redfoxes were going to assault the village and stayed at Hogwarts to be spared the slaughter."

"That's absurd!" snapped Erza, her voice ringing through the library, earning their group a withering glare from the librarian. The scarlet haired witch, flushing nearly as red as the hair on her head. She lowered her voice. "Professor Makarov would never keep Professor Jose if that were true."

His eyes rolled before his brain had sense enough to warn him that it would very likely shorten his lifespan if the red-haired witch noticed. Fortunately, Natsu has chosen the moment to try to sneak away from the table, drawing Erza's attention and ire. In spite of her temper and rather violent nature, Erza was probably the most sensible of their little group, but she had a blind spot a mile wide when it came to Makarov. He was fond of Makarov. All the St. Rowena's kids were. But Erza's belief in the man was absolute. His actions were not to be questioned. His judgment was not to be doubted.

"You have to admit the man's a little odd, Erza," Cana said. Erza's focus shifted from Natsu to Cana, and the brunette flinched, but she pressed on anyways. "He's not the first choice I'd make for taking care of kids."

"Yeah, makes you feel kinda sorry for Lockser," Loke added. "Can't be fun having to follow him around Diagon Alley."

"Or Knockturn Aleey," Mirajane said from where she sat next to Levy. A half-dozen eyes turned towards her, all silently asking the same question. "I saw Professor Jose taking her down Knockturn Alley before term started."

"Mira, is there anything anyone does that you don't somehow see or hear about?" Loke asked. The white haired girl merely smiled sweetly in response.

"What do you think they were doing at Knockturn Alley?" Lucy asked, her undivided attention now completely on the topic at hand, Gray noticed with a frown. The girl, since her mother's death, had become obsessive about certain topics, and the little blunette had been one of them.

"Think he was trying to sell her?" Natsu piped up.

"She's still here, dumbass," Loke replied.

"Well, I did say try."

"I'm sure whatever they were doing at Knockturn Alley, it was done with the approval of Hogwarts and Professor Makarov," Erza snapped, though she did seem a little less certain than her words conveyed.

"Professor Jose's investing a great deal of interest in her. So's Redfox," Levy said, her voice quiet against her more boisterous friends, but still Gray heard her. His fist clenched, knowing well what was coming next. "What if she's to be the next Zeref?"

There it was. The newest whisper echoing the halls had finally made it way to his group.

"That's nonsense!" he snapped, his eyes narrowed on the slight Ravenclaw girl who quickly sank down in her seat as though using the stacks of books around to shield her.

Fortunately for Levy, a loud crack from the courtyard below pulled Gray's attention away from the diminutive blunette and back down to the pair outside where Juvia's shield had apparently managed to repel Redfox's strike. The Redfox boy laughed and cheered, but the girl betrayed nothing. No joy, no pride, no relief. She only nodded when Redfox called out some instructions. The pair turned, their backs to each other, before taking five spaces in opposite directions. On the fifth step, the pair spun and drew their wands, Juvia summoned her shield charm as she turned, the spell rippled like water around her and held. Redfox, after what seemed to be a generous pause for the girl's benefit, let loose another spell at Juvia. The red bolt shattered an impact against the shield, fizzling away into the air around her. The Redfox boy crowed victory, throwing an arm over her shoulder and ruffling her hair. The girl, however, still wouldn't react. Just the same distant expression. Empty. Hollow.

"Doesn't seem like nonsense to me," Lucy said as she stepped next to him, watching the pair below. "She's powerful, a Slytherin, already has a Redfox by her side ready to fight for her, and he's even training her how to fight herself."

"He's teaching her how to summon a shield charm, Lucy," Gray growled. "That's not exactly the Dark Arts."

"Has to start somewhere," she replied with a shrug. "I doubt even the real Zeref started off learning killing curses."

"She's not like that! She's just a little shy. A little quiet. That's all."

"She may have been last year, Gray, but even you have to admit that she's changed a lot this year," Cana said. "I had Herbology with her last year and, outside of being a little quiet, she was practically bouncing off walls during class. Now, though, it's like she doesn't even hear what's going on half the time."

Gray didn't answer, having noticed the same in the few classes they shared this year, but the idea that the same girl he met in Ollivander's could be anything like the people who murdered his mother... It wasn't possible. For them, it was, but they didn't know her. They only knew her as the little rain witch, the Ameonna - more myth than person. He knew her as a lonely, scared orphan, just hoping to fit in. Hoping for a place to belong. She just needed to find it. As he watched Redfox, beaming like a proud brother with his arm around her shoulder, he supposed she might have already done so.

* * *

Few things comforted Juvia like Potions. Most of Juvia's other classes were a mess. Whatever progress she had made towards the end of last year with Gajeel's help had largely seemed to disappear. Spells that she had conquered last year, she couldn't cast consistently now. Most of the time, nothing would happen with each cast. Sometimes, however, they'd take a mind of their own, resulting in small fires, discolored furniture or broken windows. She spent hours each day with Gajeel - provided he wasn't in detention for something, which was becoming an increasingly rare occurrence - relearning spells to get them to behave as she wanted.

Potions, however, didn't change. The potions she made didn't care what was in her heart or her head. As long as she measured the same ingredients, as long as she followed the same steps, she'd get the same potion. There was relief in that, that something was still the same about her. That she was still the same in some way.

The pain hadn't reemerged, and the exhaustion had grown bearable. She even started to feel dull flashes of emotions once again, distant echoes of what they had been before, but still, it was something. A smoldering flame of anger, a distant pang of grief, even the smallest flicker of joy. And yet, lately, there was on rare occasion a flash, bright and blinding, that untempered by any other emotion took full control of all her senses. A burst of anger that would leave her near trembling with rage. Or a flood of grief that had her sobbing uncontrollably, which if she weren't so distraught would have probably coaxed a laugh from her at how panicked Gajeel became when the floodgates opened. She couldn't keep balanced. She ever knew quite who'd she be one moment to the next.

But potions - potions were consistent. Potions would always be the same.

Her latest concoction bubbled gently away on the desk, the green hue just as it was supposed to be. Next to her, Gajeel cursed as his cauldron started to overflow. "Add a pinch of banyan root," she told him. He started to search his reagents in a panic. She pushed the necessary bottle towards him. He hurriedly pulled out the instructed pinch and heaved a sigh of relief as the potion receded back to the confines of the cauldron.

"Thanks, Raindrop."

She merely nodded in response.

The remainder of the class passed in relative silence. Potions that year tended to be a much quieter affair, which Juvia attributed to sharing the class with the Ravenclaws rather than the Gryffindors. The class lacked its daily dose of Dragneel. Gajeel had professed relief at that at first, but Juvia suspected he rather missed the chaos.

A bell sounded to announce the end of class, the students all rising as one and gathering up all their books and supplies. Juvia followed their lead, carefully stowing away her cauldron and reagents, but she didn't follow them out the chamber. After a silent wave to Gajeel before he joined the exodus shuffling out the room, she approached the professor at his desk and waited while the professor continued with his marking. She said nothing to hurry him, and he gave no indication that he would be hurried by her presence even if she had said anything. They just remained in absolute silence until the professor laid the quill back onto his desk a few minutes later.

"Now then, Miss Lockser, let's see how you fared this week," the professor said, finally turning his attention to her. She fished a vial from the little apothecary satchel Precht had lent to her and handed the dark green liquid over to him. He examined the vial, twirling its contents about before reaching into his desk and retrieving from it a small carriage clock, its glass face shattered as though someone had taken a hammer to it. He laid it on the desk, shattered face up, removed the cap from the vial and poured its contents over the clock. The potion hissed as it hit the clock, a faint crinkling heard above the noise. When the liquid dissipated, the shattered face had knitted back together, but the evidence of its previous state remained, a great spider web crack visible below the surface of the glass.

"A good attempt, but not quite. What went wrong?" Professor Precht asked.

He knew the answer. He always did, but he never supplied it to her. She didn't mind the endless quizzes. He trusted her to find the answer in her own time, and there was sometimes the faintest flicker of pride at that.

Juvia thought on the last week, thought of each moment of the potion's progress. "It looked off when she added the ground devil's snare seeds. The potion didn't thicken as it seemed to in the text. She thinks that the reagent may have been too old."

"Let's see your reagent," he said. She dutifully pulled the small amber bottle from her satchel and handed it over. He poured a few of the seeds into his palm and rolled them between his fingers, nodding. "Fetch the third bottle from the right on the shelf, would you, Miss Lockser?" he asked, gesturing to one of his various reagent shelves. She returned back with the aforementioned bottle, from which he poured out some of the contents onto the desk, the large round seeds rolling out towards her. "Take one of these and roll it between your fingers. Feel how it resists any pressure you place on it?" She nodded. "Now try the same with one of yours."

Juvia picked up one of the seeds from her vial and executed the same test on it, feeling it crack beneath even the slight pressure she placed on it. She imagined if she so much as pressed a little harder on it, it would crumble to dust, immediately. "It's far more brittle," she said.

He nodded. "The seed has started to rot and has lost its structure. Grinding seeds from a devil's snare should always be a trial. If you find it reduces to a powder easily, chances are your reagent is well past its intended shelf life." He handed the amber bottle back to her. "Take this to Professor Warrod. Ask him to replace its contents. He had a few blooms last week, so it shouldn't be an issue. Then try again and we'll see how you fair next Thursday."

"Yes, sir," she replied as she returned the bottle to her pack. "Thank you, sir." She turned to leave but paused when Professor Precht called out.

"One more thing, Miss Lockser."

A faint flicker. Worry? Yes, worry. Juvia had earned a number of names in her couple of years at Hogwarts - Minerva's favorite, mudblood, and Ameonna, the favorite of the rest of the school. Her latest, however, was "Precht's Pet", a tribute to the interest that the Potions Professor showed the girl. However, in spite of the name, Precht's actual interest only extended to Juvia's study of potions. She knew very well that it was the teaching that Professor Precht was interested in, not her. He wasn't like Professor Makarov who would sometimes sit with her for an hour after lessons to talk about whatever topic he or she wanted to discuss. Professor Precht would just tell her what he needed to and then she was just another student for another week. He didn't talk to her otherwise. Talking to her now could not be good.

She turned slowly back to him as he remained at his desk, his hands folded together before him, looking as somber as ever.

"I've had some concerns raised to me by a couple of your professors." The flicker of worry tried to catch, but it struggled to grow beneath the pounding rain. "Professor Gildarts and Professor Belno are particularly concerned. They say that you're struggling with even the most basic of spells. Belno tells me that Dragneel is progressing better than you, and I will remind you that it took three weeks to undo the damage he did during his Transfiguration final last year. Is there an issue that I need to know about, Miss Lockser?"

"No, sir," she replied, the worry smoldering before dying out completely.

The professor seemed unconvinced. "Oddly enough, Professor Jose has not expressed the same concern, though I'm willing to wager you're experiencing similar issues in Defense Against the Dark Arts." He paused, but as no question was posed, she merely stood quietly before him. The old professor frowned, his brow furrowed as he studied her. "Tell me, Miss Lockser, what sort of spells is Professor Jose teaching you? Outside of class?"

"Dueling spells, sir. Shield charm, disarm spell, stunning spell," she replied.

"Nothing else?"

"No, sir."

"Nothing he's taught you only?"

"No, sir."

His frown deepened. Just as he had that day in Knockturn Alley, he seemed to be studying her to determine if she was telling him the truth, but she betrayed nothing, even if there had been anything to betray. He heaved a sigh. "I'll remind you, Miss Lockser, that you are on scholarship. While Makarov is not going to send you away willingly, the school governors are far less altruistic. Do not give them a reason. They'll happily take it."

"Yes, sir. Juvia will try harder." He waved his hand to dismiss her and obediently, she turned and headed for the door, trying to summon back that flicker of worry. Trying to summon anything at all, but all was drowned out beneath the rain pattering in her heart.

_Drip, drip, drop._

* * *

"O goes before R, Mister Dragneel," Professor Precht's droll voice drew Gray out from his muttered string of curses he planned to try on the pink-haired idiot later. The Gryffindor boy glanced over at his sometimes-friend-sometimes-enemy-always-idiot, looking up from the stack of books he had been sorting.

Natsu looked back at Precht incredulously. "No, it's not," he protested before immediately launching into a recitation of the alphabet.

"It goes before R, Natsu," Gray snapped.

"Shut up, snowflake," the boy snapped back before returning to his recitation. "M, N, O... Oh, huh, it does come before R. And Q."

Gray groaned. "Can I kill him and finish this on my own?"

"Tempting Mister Fullbuster, but Makarov frowns on capital punishment," replied the professor, not looking up from the opened book before him. "Besides, this is meant to be a punishment for you as well."

Punishment. Right. Bit extreme of a punishment if you asked him. All he did was give flame-brain a little shove after the idiot knocked over the contents of his cauldron. Wasn't his fault the idiot went careening back into Precht's bookcase, toppling its contents on to the floor. And so began an hour long stint in detention setting Precht's library right, made all the longer by the pressing need to take another swing at Natsu to retaliate for one taken at him.

"This has to be just as painful for you as it is for me," Gray continued.

"Suffering is a given part of the teaching process, Mister Fullbuster. Now hurry up or you'll be here past dinner."

Scowling, the boy returned to his task, returning the well-worn volumes back to their proper places. An half hour and a few mishaps later, the dungeon door groaned to announce the arrival of a new inmate. Gray shifted his gaze from the book he was holding to watch as Juvia entered, the slight blunette girl not even bothering to glance about as she hurried towards the professor's desk.

"Hey, Blue!" Natsu called out cheerfully. "What are you in for?" The Slytherin neither responded or acknowledged that she had heard anything at all. Precht answered for her.

"Miss Lockser is not here to serve out detention, Mister Dragneel. She's here because she values her education. A novel idea that you might want to consider at some point. For now, mind your own task." Natsu, grumbling, went back to the books in front of him, but Gray remained watching the blunette girl, a book forgotten in his hands. "Now, then, no mishaps this week?"

"No, sir. The infirmary was much quieter than the greenhouse."

"Did Madame Porlyusica give you any grief?"

"She did say that Juvia was underfoot too much," the girl replied, her voice hardly a whisper. It was the most he heard Juvia speak all year.

"That doesn't mean much. Had she meant it, she would have emphasized the point with a broom over your head. Warrod's far more accommodating in letting students use the greenhouse but he does have a tendency to foster a chaotic environment. Not very conducive for carefully crafting potions. I think you'll be better off keeping to the infirmary going forward. Now, let's see how you've done." Gray tried to follow from his spot while Precht pulled something from the confines of his desk. He poured a vial handed to him by Juvia on the item, a hissing sound emanating from the spot. The professor nodded approvingly as the hissing subsided. "Not a mark left on it. Well done, Miss Lockser. I have students prepping for O.W.L.s that have more difficulties with this potion than you did."

She smiled.

At least he thought she did.

He couldn't quite see her profile, but he swore he saw the corners of her mouth twitch ever so slightly upwards. It may have just been wishful thinking, however. He hadn't seen her smile once since the start of term. Granted, he only had a couple of classes with her this year and smiling in History of Magic was a sign of insanity or a cry for help, but it was still a far departure from the girl who practically skipped her way to Potions each day last year.

"Let's see what to have you try next." He flipped through the text before him but quickly shook his head. He glanced at his half-assembled library and then turned his one-eyed gaze on Gray. Gray involuntarily gulped and recoiled back when he became the focus of the man's interest. "Mister Fullbuster, bring that book here."

Gray looked down at his hands, surprised that he was still holding the book. He scrambled to his feet and approached the desk, his eyes on the blunette standing in front of it. However, no matter how close he got, she always seemed to be turned away from him. When he stood next to her at the desk, her gaze was on the wall to the right of them. He frowned, leaning forward to try to catch her eye, but she only turned further away. Across from him, Precht snapped his fingers to draw his attention back. "Errr... sorry, Professor," he said, handing over the small leather bound volume. Precht thanked him with a wave to shoo him away again. With one last glance to Juvia, her interest still firmly fastened on the wall, he returned to the back of the room and the half-filled bookcase. When he looked back to the front of the room, Juvia's focus was back on Precht. Frowning, he watched as Precht flipped through the book and then pushed it towards the girl.

"We'll try this one next," he said. "It'll be a difficult one. It takes three weeks to brew and timing is key. I trust you'll be here over the break?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. With the school empty for the break, the infirmary should be fairly quiet. I've no doubt Madame Porlyusica will still be irritated, but she'll let you have use of the infirmary to brew it. Off with you."

The girl nodded and quickly left the room without looking back to anyone in the room.

"Oi! Ice princess, hurry up! I'm nearly done here," Natsu crowed.

Gray glared at the boy and then glanced back at the bookcase behind him, most of the books sorted. "J comes before K, Natsu."

The pink-haired boy blinked and turned to the books behind. "H, I, J... Dammit!"

A half hour later, the pair had reassembled the bookcases and had earned their freedom from Precht who was as happy to see them go as they were to leave. Gray groaned as he tugged at the tie around his neck, his body aching from being hunched over the books for so long.

"Start stripping again, droopy eyes, and I'm telling Erza."

"Shut it. I'm not stripping. I'm just taking this damn tie off. It's strangling me. Keeps getting twisted up with my necklace."

"Then take the necklace off."

Gray grumbled and ignored the boy as he pulled the tie off, adjusting the sword cross necklace around his neck while Natsu prattled on, complaining about one thing after another as they headed up to the Great Hall. He was only half-listening to the other Gryffindor. "...nearly Christmas and it hasn't snowed once..."

Natsu's voice drowned completely away as they rounded the corner. Further down the hall, Juvia stood, staring out a window. With a half-hour head start, she should have been well into her dinner. But instead, she stayed staring out at the sunset as it cast its warm orange glow over the school. It wasn't like that day outside Ollivander's where a litany of emotions seemed to parade across her face while she looked to the sky. Now, she just seemed... empty. Stoic. As though she had been turned into a statue, eyes forever on a sun she had been denied for most her years.

"Wait! There's Blue! She can fix the snow." Natsu's voice pulled him out of his thoughts, the words little more than a blur of sound until he worked out their meaning.

Wait.

What?

Shit!

"Natsu, don't!" Gray hissed, but it was too late. The boy bounded up to the blunette with all the eagerness and tact of a golden retriever.

"Hey, Blue!" he called out cheerfully. The statue turned towards him, her dark blue eyes reflecting nothing. No surprise. No irritation. Nothing. "Can you make it snow? I want a rematch against Red - urk!" Whatever else the Gryffindor might have said was cut off as Gray throttled the idiot with his scarf.

"Goddamnit, Natsu! Sorry about that, Juvia, he's an -," the words died on his lips as he looked up to see Juvia walking away. He watched her go a moment before his grip on the scarf went lax, and he turned his irritation to his housemate as the latter tried to break free of his hold. "Nice going, ass. You upset her."

"She was fine when I was talking to her. It was you who scared her off," Natsu snapped back.

Gray returned his gaze to the retreating figure, an odd feeling moiling about his stomach made worse by the thought that, for the first time in his brain dead life, maybe, just maybe, Natsu was right.


End file.
